


Not Your Typical Fairytale Ending: Part 2

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Drama, Fiction, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-15
Updated: 2003-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-20 06:15:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11330175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Road trip from hell.





	Not Your Typical Fairytale Ending: Part 2

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Not Your Typical Fairytale Ending: Part 2

### Not Your Typical Fairytale Ending: Part 2

#### by Anonymous Bosch

  


NOT YOUR TYPICAL FAIRYTALE ENDING: Part 2 By Anonymous Bosch  
Category: M/Sk, Angst-o-rama, MT, h/c  
Spoilers: Post The Truth  
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Not making any money off it, etc..etc.. 

Summary: Sequel to my previous story "Not Your Typical Fairytale Ending". This picks up right where that one left off and it wont make a lick of sense without having read the first one. Basically, this is the road trip from hell. 

Author's notes: A million blessings on the Goddess Michele and Jo B. for their marvelous and insightful beta skills. Special thanks to Lisby and Reverend Anna for their support and encouragement. More unseemly and disturbing ideas and imagery, references to rape, heavy doses of angst and MT, but if you made it through the first one then you should be able to handle this one just fine. Feedback is always appreciated at . Flames will be given the attention such things deserve. A few more notes at the end of the story. 

* * *

Day 3  
6:00 PM 

Two hours south west of Denver when the radiator blew up, sending smoke and steam spewing from under the hood. 

"Oh, this is bad, isn't it?" Mulder moans as he maneuvers the dying vehicle to the shoulder of the road. 

"Yeah, you could say that." 

The three of us get out of the car and stare at the smoldering remains. 

"What do we do now?" 

"Well, we either walk the two miles back to Westcliffe, or we hitch the rest of the way to Denver. It's gonna get dark soon, I think walking back to town is the best option. Get a motel room and figure out what to do about the car in the morning." 

Mulder turns to look nervously at Gibson. "What do you think? Is it safe to go back there or should we keep moving?" 

"It's okay, I think." 

"Back to town it is then." I opened the trunk, we gather our gear and set out walking. 

We stop at the first motel we find. The manager, a kindly old man, not only sets us up with two adjoining rooms, but also volunteers to call the local mechanic to tow our car into town. 

Gibson was in his room happily channel surfing within minutes of our arrival. I had been surprised when Mulder had asked for two rooms, I thought we were supposed to be economizing. I didn't object, mind you, I was hoping this meant that he had plans for me this evening. 

Mulder makes sure the connecting door is unlocked before flopping onto the bed with a groan. I lie down on my side next to him, draping an arm over his chest. 

"There's free cable, we're going to have a hard time getting him out of here." He chuckles. Then, in a less amused tone: "I am kind of glad we're on the move again. He's been cooped up with me in that trailer way too long--it's not good for him. It can't be a healthy way for him to live. Sometimes I feel so guilty about it I can hardly stand it." 

"I don't think you should feel guilty, Fox. You've been keeping the boy safe, fed and clothed, and he seems pretty happy. You take good care of him." 

"I think you have that backwards. If you haven't noticed, he does most of the care-taking." 

"I don't see it that way and I don't think he does either. You take really good care of each other. Where do you think he'd be if he hadn't had you with him all this time?" 

"I don't know. Probably, better off. He's an incredibly smart kid, you know, he did pretty well on his own before. Getting himself into that school for the deaf was a stroke of genius. I wish I could give him something stable like that. A home, friends his own age, a high school sweetheart, all that stuff a normal kid should have. He should have all that and it's so unfair that he can't." 

"I agree, Mulder, it's not fair. Nothing about what's happened to the two of you is fair, but there isn't anything we can do to change that. You shouldn't beat yourself up about things you had no control over. It's not your fault." 

"Isn't it? I mean, honestly, if it weren't for me none of this would be happening." 

"You mean, if we hadn't been searching for you, they never would have found Gibson and he'd still be in that school?" 

"Well, there's that, but I was thinking more big picture, Walter." 

"What big picture is that?" As I spoke, I moved my hand over his chest in soft deliberate circles, hoping to soothe Mulder-or maybe soothe myself. 

"That they made him...they made him from me...I think we're all pretty sure at this point that I am his biological father. And I think that makes me somewhat responsible for what's happened to him." 

"Mulder, cut yourself a little slack here. It's not like we're talking about some woman you accidentally knocked up and then bailed out on. You didn't have a clue about what they'd done to you. You didn't even know there could be a connection between the two of you until last year. How can you possibly hold yourself responsible for their crimes?" 

Mulder sighs, rubbing his tired eyes, "Guess I sound pretty stupid, huh?" 

"No, not stupid. You sound like a concerned father who wants the best for his son. There is nothing stupid about that, Mulder." 

"Thank you..." Mulder's voice drops to a whisper, and then he's rolling towards me. The kiss is quick, but scorching in its intensity, making me gasp involuntarily as he pulls away. "It's getting late. We should go get something to eat before they roll up the sidewalks. The kid must be starving by now." 

"Uh, okay." His abrupt shifting of gears has left me a little befuddled and more than a little disappointed. 

Mulder gets up, knocks on the connecting door and yells, "Chow time, Gibson!" 

The boy is through the door within seconds. "Where are we going? I am starving." 

"There's a diner right across the street. Does that sound okay to you?" 

"Yeah, that's cool." 

"Come on, Walter," Mulder says offering me a hand, "let's go get some food in this kid before he starts gnawing on the furniture." 

I take his hand and let him pull me towards the door. I notice he is quick to break contact as soon as we step outside. My initial reaction is one of hurt, but then I realize it was the smart thing to do. People in a small town may not pay too much attention to two men and a young boy traveling together, but chances are, two openly gay men with a young boy could start people talking. It annoys me that we have to take such things in consideration. 

11:30 pm 

The shower had felt good, but after an extremely long day and heavy diner food, it did little to revive either of us. Mulder was already out cold and I wasn't going to be far behind him. I think the only reason I was even still awake was this vague feeling of dread over what the night could bring with it. It had been less than twenty-four hours since I witnessed Mulder's complete meltdown and I was frightened about what might be in store for us tonight. He seemed to be able to keep it together during the day, but sleep allowed his subconscious to run amok, letting all his demons out to play. I prayed that he would be too exhausted to even dream tonight. 

Watching him sleep I wondered how many nights Dana had laid awake like this. Like a soldier in the trenches, watching and waiting for the next bomb to drop. Did she ever get used to it? Will I? I hope that I will be strong enough to make good on my promise to stay with him, to not bail when things get really bad. If Scully couldn't do it, do I even stand a chance? 

We didn't really talk about what happened last night. Realizing that he remembers more about his abduction and return than he ever let on to anyone frightens me more than I can say. I am afraid that if he ever decides to talk about it that I will be just like Scully, I won't be able to hear it and instead try to make him stop under the guise of trying to comfort him. Will I make him feel just as sad and alone as she did? 

As I put my arms around him, his body responds, rolling into me, wrapping himself around me and clinging like ivy. I decide right then that I don't care how uncomfortable or frightening things get, there is no way I am going lose this. No way in hell will I allow that to happen. 

Day 4  
9:00 AM  
Westcliffe, CO. 

Gibson's back in front of his beloved television immediately after breakfast, so Mulder and I leave him to find the mechanic and assess the damage. It's as bad as I had expected--we needed a new radiator and water pump. The mechanic tells us that chevy's so old it's going to take a few days to track down the parts and get us back on the road. It looked like we'll be staying here for a little while. 

The news makes Mulder extremely nervous and edgy. 

"Maybe we should just buy another car and get the hell out of here?" 

"That seems kind of wasteful. It's only going to be a couple hundred bucks to fix and Gibson said we're okay here for now..." I write his mood off to his lack of sleep remembering the two really spectacular nightmares that had kept both of us awake for most of the night. 

"I don't know...something just feels wrong. I know I am probably over reacting-- the kid's radar is good. Logically I know it's okay. It just feels...oh, never mind, I am just being paranoid." He sighs, shaking his head. "Well, if we're going to be here a few days I think we should go ahead and see if we can get the ball rolling with Yves on your new identity. If we can get the whole thing taken care of here, then we can just get the hell out of the state when the car is ready." 

"Sounds like a good plan to me. Where do we start?" 

"A little recon. Follow me." He smiles and starts walking towards the record store across the street from the mechanic. 

"Mulder, we don't even have a tape deck. Why are we going music shopping?" 

He just shakes his head at me as he enters the store and goes straight for the black clothed, pale-as-death sales girl behind the counter. I hang back by the door watching him. He gets the girl's attention, flashes that patented Muldersmile, says something witty and she is suddenly all his. He has somehow just turned a surly, goth teenager into a blushing, hair-twirling, girl with a crush. How the hell does he do it? Stupid question, I think, he's been doing it to me for years. The girl has taken pen to paper and is talking a blue streak. She hands him the paper, he smiles and thanks her, she melts. 

We leave the store with a hand drawn map of downtown Westcliffe, including its one cyber caf, a place we can get photocopies and passport pictures made, a bar, and a couple of restaurants clearly marked in bright pink ink. 

"A quick stop for cash and we'll be in business. What? Why are you looking at me like that?" 

"We could have just looked in the phone book for those addresses. You didn't have to do that to that poor unsuspecting sales clerk." 

"My way is much faster and I didn't do anything to her! I just asked her if there was someplace I could get online around here. She seemed more than happy to help." 

"Yeah, whatever. Don't think I am buying that innocent act for a second." I chuckle as we stop in front of the ATM. 

Mulder withdraws the maximum allowed on that machine and hands me half. 

"What's this for? I still have some cash." 

"Just in case...you never know when...Oh, shit...." He stops cold, staring at the receipt the machine just spit out at him. 

"Mulder? Mulder what is it?" 

He doesn't speak, but holds the little slip of paper out to me, his eyes are starting to water. I am filled with dread as I take the offered receipt and stare at it. 

"Oh, my God." 

The ending balance has grown by about one hundred fifty thousand dollars from the mere five grand he had 2 days ago. 

"She put it back...Gibson was right..." 

"All of it?" 

"No, but a lot of it..." 

Tears are starting to roll down his cheeks. I realize we are standing in the middle of Main Street in a strange town and Mulder is likely to completely breakdown at any second. He's trembling slightly and I can tell he's making a great effort to hold himself together. There is no way we are going to make it back to the motel in time, but I don't see any other option. 

"Mulder? Mulder let's go back to the motel for a while, okay? We can go e-mail Yves later." 

"Why? Why would she do it?" 

"I don't know, Mulder, but this is a good thing. Nothing to be upset over." 

"I know...but...I just don't get it." 

"Let's go, okay, Babe?" He hasn't budged. I look around frantically for some place out of the way I can take him. There is nothing. No alley, no recessed doorway, nothing. 

Suddenly he wipes the tears away with the back of his hand, takes a deep breath, and shoves the receipt and the cash in his pocket. 

"Come on, Walter. We need to get in touch with Yves. The sooner the better." He starts walking down the street in the opposite direction from the motel. I have to admit I am greatly relieved that he seems to have pulled it together, but I worry that he could still lose it at any second. 

When we reach the caf there is no evidence that he is even remotely upset. We order coffee and log in for time on the net. I start to panic when he freezes up again staring at the one unopened e-mail in his in-box. It's from the subject line just says 'Please Read'. 

"Mulder? You Okay?" 

He swallows convulsively and turns to look at me. He doesn't have to say a word, his eyes tell me everything. It's from Scully, he can't deal with it and I am going to have to take over if we are going to avoid causing a scene. 

"Mulder, we're not going to open this now. We are going to write to Yves & Jimmy, drink our coffee and print out her message. You can read it when you're ready, okay? You with me here, Babe?" 

He just nods. 

"Good. Let's get started." 

3:00pm 

To: 

From: 

Mulder,  
I pray this letter finds you safe and well. I have so much I want to say that I barely know where to begin. First, I need to say I am sorry. 

I am sorry for the way I treated you and Gibson. Time and distance have given me enough clarity to see what you were doing, Mulder. Yes, I have finally seen through your clever scheme, if only I hadn't realized this too late. You tried so hard to push me away. You were so very cold. It was so unlike you that I should have realized then that you were being cruel to be kind, Mulder. You knew how unhappy I was and you also knew I would never have left you unless you drove me out. You loved me enough to make me leave. For that, Mulder, I am forever in your debt. 

Still, knowing this does not excuse my behavior. I can't even begin to tell you how ashamed I am over some of the things I said and did to you. Even though you were using every psychological trick your well-trained mind could come up with to push my buttons, I am sure even you, were surprised by the depths I sank to. I will live with the guilt of it for the rest of my life. Again, I am sorry. I hope in time you will be able to forgive me as I have forgiven you. 

I deeply regret the pain and worry I must have caused you by running off with your money. It was a childish, vengeful act and I am so very ashamed. I hope you can forgive that I am not able to replace all of it. Setting up a new life here had a considerable price tag attached. 

New Zealand is green and lush and beautiful. I am practicing general medicine in a small clinic in a tiny little town. I am happy here. Happy, but for one thing, Mulder, I miss you. Yes, in spite of everything we did to hurt each other over the last year, I still love you. I will always love you. Should you decide it's time to lay down your sword and give up the quest, come to me and I will be here to greet you with open arms. 

Yours Always,  
Dana 

I stare blankly at the paper in my hand, feeling something starting to quickfreeze in my heart. He'd printed out Scully's email, deleted it from his mailbox, and after reading it himself in the relative safety of our motel room, he handed it to me. His eyes were getting wide and wet again, and I didn't want to look. 

"I don't know what to say, Mulder." He had wanted me to read the letter, but now I was wishing I hadn't. It terrified me. She wants him back. What the hell am I going to do? 

"It didn't work." He looks almost shell shocked. "I tried...I tried to make her hate me...why didn't it work?" 

"Mulder, what she said about you deliberately trying to drive her away. That's true?" 

"Yeah...didn't I mention that before?" 

"No, no you didn't." 

"Oh..." 

"Why? Why would you do that?" 

"She was so miserable, Walter...sometimes it hurt just to look at her. I was the reason she was so miserable. If she hadn't loved me she wouldn't have come, she wouldn't have been suffering so much. I couldn't let it go on any longer. It was killing me knowing what being with me was doing to her." 

"Did you ever think about just telling her that? Maybe try breaking up like reasonable adults?" 

"You think I didn't? I can't count how many times I tried. She just wouldn't hear it. I knew she would never leave unless I could make her hate me. I mean, REALLY hate me. So, I did. At least I thought I did. I didn't really have to do all that much on top of being the crazy bastard I already am. A lot of that stuff she said...I totally had it coming to me...not all of it, not that night I told you about, but a lot of it." 

"From what Gibson said, I thought..." 

"Well, Gibson has his own issues with her. I think his take on the situation might be a bit... biased." 

"Well, what you did was very noble and incredibly fucked up, Mulder." 

"Yeah, well, 'fucked up' is what I do best. It's what I am." 

I don't have a good response for that one. In a lot of ways he's right. He has always had a knack for doing the right thing in the most fucked up way possible. I can't wait anymore, I have to know what this means to me. What does this mean for us? 

"So, what now? What are you going to do, Mulder?" 

"What do you mean?" 

Oh, god. He's going to make me work for it. 

"Are you going?" 

"Where?" 

"New Zealand. Scully. Are you going?" 

"God, no! What makes you think I would do that?" 

"She's still in love with you. She wants you back." 

"But, that's not what I want, Walter. Even if I did want it, I know it would never work. I can't be what she wants...we'd end up back in the very same place in no time. I do love her, but loving someone doesn't necessarily mean it's a good idea to be with them. She is scared of me, Walter. You have no idea what a mess I've been, the last couple of days I have been better than usual, if that tells you anything. The other night...well, you saw how I can get. I think maybe she thinks that some of my craziness was part of the act to get her to leave. But once she realizes that I am indeed still a crazy bastard the whole thing would start all over again. Besides that, I am exactly where I want to be." 

He leans over and kisses me so sweetly I almost start crying. Almost. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Absolutely, 100% sure, Walter." 

"Are you going to write her back?" 

"Yeah." 

"You going to tell her about us?" 

"Yes, I think it's the right thing to do." 

"What do you think her reaction will be?" 

"Her reaction? She's gonna be pissed as hell! She'll be hurt and I don't know any way around that. But at least it will be the last time I cause her any grief. Maybe it will let her move on, find someone who can really make her happy. She deserves to be happy." 

"You're really sure? I mean, I've loved you a long time, but we've only been together a few days. Maybe you should wait to tell her." 

"Are you...you having doubts, Walter?" He looks at me completely stricken. "Are you thinking about leaving? I understand if you need to..." 

"No! God, no! I was ...I am just ...I think I am just feeling a little insecure right now..." 

He smiles, then suddenly pushes me back on the bed and straddles my hips. "Tell me what I have to do to make you feel safe." He leans in capturing my mouth, his hands grabbing the edge of my t-shirt and pushing it up my chest. I extend my arms and break the seal of lips, allowing him to pull the shirt off. 

"I can't say for sure, but I think you're off to a really good start." I smile up at him. 

He sits back up, and the weight of him pressing on my already hard penis makes me moan. Fox pulls off his turtleneck and then stills and looks down at me. It's that same look he had after the first time we made love and again it takes my breath away. How could I have doubted him? This man truly loves me. 

"Yes, I do. Now I want to show you..." 

Did I speak the words aloud? 

He starts kissing my neck, nuzzling against me, "No...sometimes Walter...sometimes I still hear you. Does that ...scare you?" 

I think about this for all of a second. "No...no it doesn't scare me, Mulder." It really doesn't, in a way I am glad, thinking that maybe he won't ever have to doubt my feelings for him. 

4:30PM 

This is my definition of heaven. Fox has claimed every inch of me with his expert lips and hands. His pace has been so slow and gentle that it borders on excruciating. 

He's staring into my eyes as he moves slowly inside me, his gaze so intense I have to look away. 

"Look at me, Walter...stay here ...Stay with me... be right here, right now...please look at me..." 

I obey. Looking into his eyes, I feel completely exposed to him, like he can see everything I am. Like he can see my soul. It is so overwhelming I don't know how much longer I can withstand it. 

He ignores my pleas of 'faster' and 'harder' and continues his slow and deliberate pace. Making me feel every second of it, not letting me lose myself in the sensation. I am acutely aware of every nerve ending in my body and if he doesn't let me come soon I am going to go completely insane. 

I think he decides to take pity on me as his pace quickens. I am on the brink of what will probably be the greatest orgasm of my life when the hand that had been stroking my cock wraps tightly around its base. Oh, god. He's not going to let me come. He is trying to drive me crazy. 

"Oh...please...God ...Fox...I need..." I pant. 

"Not yet...hang in there...baby...soon...so soon..." 

I hear strange whimpering sounds and realize they are coming from me. It's embarrassing, but I can't stop. 

"You're so beautiful, Walter..." he whispers. 

Beautiful. No one, but him, has ever called me that. I don't know why but hearing him say it makes my eyes start to water. His thrusts are becoming harder and more erratic, he is close. As I think it, I feel him tense and come inside me, calling my name along with a litany of gods and saints. He pulls out quickly and before the sudden emptiness I feel can really register I feel his mouth envelope me and I really think I might die from ecstasy. When he finally releases his grip on the base of my cock I explode with such intensity that they probably heard me screaming his name three counties away. 

He has reduced me to a quivering, crying mess and God, how I love him for it. I can't move. He crawls up my body and begins to kiss away the tears I can't stop shedding. 

"You okay, Walter? Did I hurt you?" He sounds truly worried. He's obviously not hearing my thoughts right now or he would be feeling smug and awfully proud of himself instead of concerned. 

I can't seem to speak yet, but I smile and try to convey what I am feeling with my eyes. He gets the message. He smiles and kisses me again. 

"Do you feel better now?" his voice is light, almost laughing. 

I just nod. I let him pull me into his arms, my head resting over his heart. 

"I love you more than life, Walter. Don't ever forget that." He kisses the top of my head. 

His choice of words sends a sudden chill down my spine. More than life. Coming from someone else that phrase would be completely benign, but from him it holds all sorts of possibly dark connotations. 

I don't get time to ponder this further, because he is suddenly pushing me away in a panic. 

"Get up, get dressed...something's wrong! Hurry!" 

I don't question, I just follow his lead and scramble for my clothes, but my limbs feel like rubber and I can't seem to move faster than a crawl. He's yelling for Gibson and the boy isn't responding. He's still trying to get his jeans up as he goes to his suitcase. He finds his gun just as the connecting door swings open. I am just getting my pants zipped as three men in fatigues burst through holding Gibson with a gun to his head. Fox and I both freeze in terror. 

"Long time, no see, Fox... Sorry, did we interrupt something?" Sneers the large, ugly man, holding the gun to Gibson's head. "See, Johnson, I told you he was queer. You owe me fifty bucks!" 

I watch Mulder as his demeanor completely changes. The terror has been stuffed down somewhere letting the cocky, self-assured Special Agent Fox Mulder I remember emerge. 

"Why, Sargent Barnes, what an unpleasant surprise." Mulder straightens, squaring his shoulders. 

"Well, looks like our little fox hunt is over. There are a whole lot of people very anxious to see you, especially Dr. Marsh. She's really missed you." He leers. "You're going to come with us, with no trouble, or the kid here gets it. You are going to put that gun down and then you're going to suck my dick all the way back to Quantico." 

"Unless you've been seriously working on your self control, we both know that's not going to happen. If memory serves, you only lasted about 45 seconds the last time I had the supreme displeasure." 

Mulder's comment makes the other two soldiers snicker. I feel like I am going to be sick. 

Barnes is enraged. "Shut the fuck up and drop the gun, you fucking faggot. I'm serious. I will splatter this kid all over the damn room. Followed by your boyfriend." 

"No, you're not going to do any such thing." Mulder grins maniacally as he puts the barrel of the gun against his temple. "If you do, you will have to explain to your superiors why you have brought them a worthless corpse. I don't think they would be too pleased with you. If they let you live, you'll probably end up cleaning latrines for the rest of your career. Now, everyone in this room knows I am crazy enough to pull the trigger, so I suggest you do exactly as I say." 

"You're bluffing." 

"Am I? You sure you want to take that chance?" Mulder asks, pulling back on the hammer. The sound of the bullet snapping into the chamber makes me flinch violently. "I didn't think so. Now release the boy." 

Barnes complies nervously. Gibson goes to Mulder and wraps his arms around his waist. Still keeping the gun firmly against his head and his eyes on the soldiers, he uses his free arm to hug the boy to him. 

"Listen to me Gibson, and listen good okay." 

I see the boy nod against Mulder's chest. Mulder doesn't speak again, I know he doesn't have to, but I really need to hear what he's telling him. The soldiers look confused and nervous. They obviously don't have a clue about who Gibson is or what's going on between them. I think this is a good thing. Gibson pulls back suddenly, with tears in his eyes. 

"No! I won't..." 

"Yes, you will. Gibson, this is important. Now, go pack your things." 

The boy wipes his eyes on his sleeve and heads past the soldiers, back into his room. 

"Okay, gentlemen. Here is how this is going to work: my friends are going to pack up their belongings, then you are going to give them the keys to whatever vehicle you came in. When I am sure that they are safely on their way I give you the gun. Deal?" 

"Deal," Barnes mumbles begrudgingly. "It's less work for us anyway, we wont have to bother with disposing of the bodies. The humvee is just outside the door." He tosses Mulder a set of keys. 

Mulder backs toward the window and pulls the curtain open. He takes a quick glance outside, obviously making sure there is indeed a vehicle waiting. 

"Yeah, and while we're waiting for new transport we can take advantage of this nice room and get...reacquainted...with our friend Fox." Johnson adds while rubbing his crotch. The soldiers all laugh. 

Mulder ignores them. "Walter, start packing, please. Make sure you get everything, my stuff too. I won't be needing any of it." 

I can't believe this is happening. I should be doing something, but I can't move. I just stare at him, standing there so incredibly calm with that gun to his head. He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, pulls out his wallet and tosses it to me. Somehow, I managed to catch it. 

"Everything you need is in there. Gibson knows the rest. Please, start packing, Walter, my arm is getting tired." 

Gibson comes back in with his suitcase and puts it down by the door. 

"Gibson, can you help Walter, please? " 

"Okay," he says meekly. 

"Make sure you get my big duffel bag out of the closet. There are things in there you can use." 

Gibson is tugging at my sleeve as he whispers, "It's okay. Do what he says." 

I nod and somehow get myself moving. He must have a plan. Gibson obviously knows what it is. I am just going to have to trust him. As I gather our things I try not to listen to this man, Johnson, as he goes into detail about their plans for Mulder. If I allow what he's saying to really register in my head I will end up getting us all killed. How Mulder can face these men with such a look of complete serenity is beyond my comprehension. 

"We were too easy on you last time, Fox. Things will be different now. In a couple of weeks your head will be so thoroughly rinsed out you won't even remember your name. The only thing you'll be sure of is the fact that you're only good for one thing, that there's only one reason for you to even exist. You'll be the Doc's docile little pet. Just the sound of your cell door opening is going to give you a hard on..." 

Mulder effectively cuts the other man off as he begins speaking to me. 

"Remember everything I've told you, Walter. I meant every word. You promised me two things...I am only going to hold you to one of them. You get him as far away as possible and you keep him safe. I am counting on you." 

"Mulder...please...I--" 

"Don't! Don't start, Walter. I know what I am doing. If you don't go now they will kill you both. Now please, don't let me down here...go...keep him safe, baby, do it for me..." 

"I... I can't..." 

"You should listen to your bitch, Baldy. We'll happily take your ass out if we have to." 

"Barnes, stay the fuck out of this! You touch him and we're all going down together! Walter, listen to me. Yes, you can. I'll be all right, you know they won't kill me. You promised me...you promised to take care of him." 

I can hear the anguish creeping into his voice. 

I can't seem to make the words I need to say come out of my mouth, so I just nod and steer Gibson towards the door, grabbing our bags on the way. 

"Gibson, come here..." Mulder chokes out. 

There is another obvious silent exchange as he hands Gibson the keys. 

"Go...go on now. You get to drive, get Walter out of here. You know where to go." 

I am still unable to speak as Gibson pulls me out of the motel room door. This is so surreal I just can't make sense of it. We get in the humvee, Gibson behind the wheel. I can see Fox watching us through the motel room window, one elegant hand against the glass, the other holding a loaded gun to his head. How the fuck did this happen? What the hell am I doing leaving him in there? Why didn't I do something? Why couldn't I have at least told him I loved him? 

"Walter, the duffel bag...open it...open it now..." Gibson is yelling at me. 

It's enough to snap me out of my daze and I grab Mulder's bag, open it and start rooting around in it, "What am I looking for?" I hadn't needed to ask. There under a few sweaters is a military issue Ak-47, loaded and ready. 

"Where the hell did he get this?" I wonder out loud. 

"Texas. A gun dealer in Texas. " 

"What's going on, Gibson? What is he planning?" 

"He knows they won't kill him. As soon as he's sure we are safe he's gonna try and ditch them. He wants us to go to Yves and Jimmy, if he doesn't meet us there by the end of the week he wants us to rally the troops and bust him out. If we see anyone trying to follow us after he surrenders he wants you to use the gun." 

I can still see him watching us from the window. "But...this just doesn't make sense...he gave me his ID...his money...everything..." I say as Gibson begins to back the humvee out of its parking space. 

He's only backed out a few feet when he slams on the breaks screaming "Nooo!" 

There is simultaneous gunfire and shattering glass and a body falling through the window to the sidewalk below. 

Instinct takes over and I am out of the car and spraying machine gun fire into the hotel room as I run towards Mulder's still form. It feels like being back in the jungle, back in Vietnam, the enemy unseen, the carnage all too vivid. I have no memory of how I managed to get him into the vehicle while continuing to return fire on the soldiers hidden within the motel walls. 

Gibson is peeling out of the parking lot before I even get the door closed. As he pulls into traffic he slows, observing the speed limit, trying not to draw attention. 

"It's okay. They are wounded, not dead but too fucked up to follow us. How is he?" 

I am stunned and ashamed that I don't know how to answer him. I lay Mulder down on the back seat and I kneel on the floorboards. He's breathing. A bloody mess, but breathing. He had numerous lacerations from the broken glass, and there is an obvious bullet wound through his right forearm. Most frightening of all is the fact that he's unconscious and the right side of his head is bleeding profusely. 

It takes me a minute to tally up the facts and what they mean. And the most obvious answer is also the most horrifying. 

"He tried to kill himself and they tried to stop him." 

"I know...I heard him right before he did it." Gibson's voice sounds choked off, like he's trying to keep himself from crying. "He lied to me, no ones ever been able to do that before..." 

I am trying to stop the bleeding using whatever I pull out of the nearest suitcase. I tie a t-shirt around his arm. It looks like a clean shot right through the muscle. It doesn't feel like any bones were damaged. They were obviously trying to disable him before he could pull the trigger, but he was too fast for them. I move on to his head, I am almost too terrified to look. 

There is so much blood I can't tell if the bullet penetrated his skull. I start mopping at the blood and try to get a good look at the wound. I am almost weak with relief when I find not a hole, but a two inch long gash exposing the bone beneath. This is good. This is survivable. I wrap the wound up with strips of a shirt, tying it as tight as I dared and then move on. His left side had impacted with the window and the sidewalk, and most of the cuts are so shallow that they've already stopped bleeding but there are several just under his ribs that are deep and still have large shards stuck in them. I shudder grimly and go to work, carefully removing the glass and bandaging as I go. 

"What do we do, Gibson? Did you two have some sort of plan for what to do if something like this happened?" 

"No. Our only real plan was to avoid situations like this. If we were still in Navaho country we could go to a reservation, the tribal elders all know who we are and would have helped. We are too far away now." 

"He needs a doctor, but with the gunshot wound they will immediately call the cops, plus I am sure those pricks have alerted their superiors by now. They are going to be swarming soon. I should have made sure they were dead, it would have bought us more time." 

Fox could easily survive these injuries with proper care, but there was no way I could see to get him what he needed. We're in a stolen vehicle, blood everywhere, carrying an illegal weapon and a known fugitive and the military is probably already mobilizing to find us. The humvee probably has satellite tracking too. We're so fucked. 

8:00 PM 

Well, if we weren't criminals before, we certainly are now. Fortunately, the unusual education Gibson has been receiving from Mulder included how to hot wire a car, so it takes almost no time at all to swap the humvee for a soccer mom variety mini-van in a dark corner of a used car lot. 

Stopping at a remote gas station and I send Gibson in to get the key to the restroom. There, I wash off as much of Mulder's blood as I can and change into unstained clothing. We need to find a safe place to stay for the night and I certainly would have attracted way too much attention looking as wretched and bloodstained as I did. 

I take over driving from Gibson who climbs into the back with Mulder. I can hear him crying softly and talking to the unconscious man who seems to be slowly fading away from us in the back seat. 

We're heading blindly north. I still want to put more distance between us and the scene of our crime. There's nothing more we can do for Mulder until we find a motel. He has begun to stir every now and then, but he still hasn't fully regained consciousness. Glancing back as often as I safely can, I can see he's pale from blood loss and there is a light sheen of sweat coating his skin. I know he is in bad shape, but I feel helpless to do anything. I find myself wishing that Scully was here, she would know what to do and she would save him. I just feel inept and impotent. 

Just west of Denver when I finally feel comfortable enough to find us a place to stop. I tell the motel desk clerk that I am a light sleeper and need a room as far from the traffic noise as possible. He gives us a ground floor room on the backside of the building. 

I am thankful that we can't be seen from the road as I carry a half naked, blood soaked man into our room. In the harsh light of the motel room his appearance is even more shocking. I lay him on the bed and help Gibson get our things out of the van. Once we were locked in with curtains drawn, I sigh in relief, and then try to assess just how desperate our situation really is. 

Mulder starts trying to fight me as soon as I begin stripping off his jeans and the makeshift bandages, but he hasn't got the strength to really cause much interference. 

"Mulder, it's Walter. You're safe, please be still for me. I am trying to help you, baby." 

He is completely out of it, my voice doesn't register. Gibson is busily unpacking the very well stocked, military issue first aid kit that we had stolen from the humvee. He comes over to the bed and hands me a small box. It's full of single use morphine injections. This was perfect. I had used them many times on wounded guys in my unit and a couple of times recreationally on myself. They were all pre-measured so you didn't have to think about the dosage. 

"Thank you, Gibson." I take one out of the box, unwrap it and quickly jab it into Mulder's upper arm. His wounds have to be thoroughly cleaned and it's going be an extremely painful ordeal without it. The morphine has pulled him under into blissful oblivion by the time I move him to the bathtub. I use the ice bucket to slowly pour warm water from the tap over him trying to rinse the dried and not so dry blood away. 

"Gibson, could you get me the scissors out of the kit?" He brings me the scissors and I hand him the ice bucket and the washcloth. "Do you mind helping me out here?" 

The boy shakes his head, he looks relieved to have something to do. 

"Just get as much of the blood and dirt off him as you can, just be careful around the actual cuts, okay? After we get him cleaned up a bit we'll go for the antiseptics." He just nods and gets to work. I gently turn Mulder's head towards the wall and begin clipping away the blood matted hair around the head wound so it will be easier to clean. Stuck to some of the hair are what appear to be very tiny fragments of bone. Closer examination of the wound reveals a shallow, jagged groove in his skull from the path of the bullet. 

The reality of what actually happened today finally sinks in. He really tried to do it. He meant it. If they hadn't shot him he would have blown his head off. He fucking stood there and told me he was going to do it and I missed it. He had said he wasn't going to hold me to my promise not to let them take him alive. He was trying to tell me he was going to do it himself. God damn it, how could I have been so stupid? How the hell could I have just walked out of there and left him to it? 

"It's not your fault, Walter. He fooled us both. Even if you'd known there was nothing you could have done. We'd all be dead now. Besides, if it's anybody's fault it's mine. God damn TV." 

"What do mean? How could it be your fault?" 

"I should have known they were coming hours before they found us, but I let the TV drown everything else out. It's really the only thing that can. When I am watching TV I can kinda put everything else on mute. Now, he might die because of a damn Outer Limits marathon on the Sci Fi channel. How stupid is that?" 

"At least it was a show Mulder would approve of." That catches Gibson off guard a laugh escapes him before he can stop it. Then he looks guilty. 

"It's not you're fault, Gibson." I tell him firmly. "The blame really belongs with those bastards who have been hunting him like a damn animal. And where were all those dead people when we needed them? You'd think Krycek or Albert or somebody would have tipped us off today." 

"Well, if I can't blame myself then you can't blame yourself either." 

"You're right. No more blame game." 

Day 5  
12:15 AM 

Thanks to the Army first aid manual and the abundant supplies, I think Gibson and I did a pretty good job of patching him up. I even managed to put some stitches in his head and in two of the deeper cuts on his side. The scars won't be pretty, but they will be better than if we had left them to heal as they were. I only had to run and vomit once. 

He and Gibson are both sleeping now. Mulder is running a slight fever and I don't know whether that is to be expected or if I should be worried. So for now, I just watch and wait. He is by no means out of the woods yet. He wasn't exactly in peak physical condition to begin with. He lost so much blood, cleaning the wounds made them all start bleeding again. He really should be getting blood products or at the very least a saline IV or two. 

There is no way I can even think about sleep. I am too wound up and just plain too scared. I still can't figure out how they tracked us down. I keep expecting a horde of soldiers to come crashing through the door at any second. I keep thinking about how differently things would have played out if they had entered our room first. If Mulder hadn't had that minute of warning, I would probably be dead now and he would be on his way back to that facility at Quantico. Who knows what they would have done with Gibson? 

"You should try to sleep, Walter. You'll be safe for tonight and he's going to need you tomorrow." It's a familiar female voice that snaps me out of my reverie. 

"Sharon?" I turn around and there she is in the chair next to me. She is just as beautiful as I remember her. My heart aches at the sight of her. 

"Hello, Walter. I am so happy that you can finally see me." She smiles at me. 

I am too stunned to speak. 

"It's all right, Walter. I know this is shocking for you, you don't have to say anything." 

"I...Are you alright?" I realize what a stupid thing that was to say as soon as I say it. 

She laughs at me. "Yes, I am fine. I am happy. I am in a really good place, Walter." 

"I'm glad...I am so sorry for everything..." 

"Honey, it's okay. I know. Stop beating yourself up about how things turned out with us. And you're not responsible for my death either, so you can let that go too." 

"But..." 

"No, no buts. One of the advantages to being on this side of things is the knowledge it brings. I know you really loved me. I know all the reasons you felt you had to shut me out and, if I may quote you, they were 'very noble and incredibly fucked up'." 

"You heard that conversation, huh?" 

"Yes, I did. You two are more alike than anyone would think. You both have the best of intentions, but your methods leave something to be desired." 

"Yeah, you may be right about that." I smile at her. 

"There were times during the last years of our marriage that I suspected you were in love with someone else. Not that you were having an affair, but that there was someone else in your heart. Someone sharing that space with me. I must say I was shocked when I found out who it was, but I am glad you two are finally together. I admit that I didn't want to like him at first. No one ever wants to like their rival, but he loves you deeply. He's a good man, Walter, and good for you." 

"I think he is too..." I am feeling very awkward right now, but receiving her approval has lifted a huge weight off my shoulders that I didn't even realize was there. 

"You've let all your walls down for him, Walter, let yourself be completely open and vulnerable. He's changed you, just as you've changed him. You are really good for each other. He feels safe with you. The difference in him since you've arrived has been remarkable." 

"Not remarkable enough apparently." I sigh. 

"Walter, you mustn't think that way and don't be harsh with him when he comes to. He did it out of love, Walter. He was at peace with his decision. He really believed he was doing the right thing for everyone involved. I believe he was right." 

"How could blowing his brains out possibly be the right thing?!" I snap at her. 

"He handed himself over to those men in exchange for yours and Gibson's safety. He knew there was no escape for him and that you wouldn't rest until you'd rescued him. He didn't want you putting yourself or Gibson at risk by trying such a foolish thing. If he were dead, you and the boy would be out of harms way and he would be safe from whatever horrors they had planned for him. He's not afraid of dying...he knows what's waiting for him here. He would have stayed at your side until your time came, so you could have moved on together." 

I don't want to think about this now. I want him here in this world until my time comes. I needed to change the subject. 

"Sharon...Why was there no warning today? How did they find us?" 

"I don't know why I didn't know until it was too late...maybe this was supposed to happen for some reason. I have a lot of the answers, but not all of them. I am sorry. As far as how they found you...that I did figure out. They have been monitoring banks all over the South West. They figured out his alias in White Rock from the ATM surveillance camera. When he used his card this morning, it set off all the bells and whistles. Then it was just a matter of calling motels asking if they had a George Hale registered." 

"Damn. We made it easy for them. Mulder knew...not specifically, but he said this morning that things didn't feel right, that he wanted to just find another car and get out of town. I should have listened to him." 

I am distracted by a soft moan and movement from the bed. Mulder is trying to wake up. When I look back to where Sharon was sitting, she is gone. I don't know why she would leave so abruptly, I just hope she will come back again sometime. 

I sit down on the bed next to him and put my palm against his cheek. His skin feels hot, his fever is rising. 

"Mulder, can you hear me?" There is another moan and his eyes struggle open. "Hey, babe, welcome back. I've been so worried about you..." 

" 'mmm not dead?" 

"No, you're not dead." I smile at him, but I am saddened by the fact that he looks so disappointed. 

"You...Gibson...okay?" 

"Yes, thanks to you we are just fine. You're not so fine though, babe. You think you can take some aspirin for me? You're running a little fever." 

He nods and I go grab the aspirin and a glass of water. He lets me put the tablets on his tongue and I lift his head and hold the glass to his lips. He drinks greedily. 

"Slow down, Mulder, I know you're thirsty but I don't want you to make yourself sick. I will give you some more in a little while okay? Are you in any pain?" 

"felt worse..." 

"I know you have, but you don't have to suffer this time. I can give you more morphine if you want it." 

"please..." 

"Okay." I give him another injection and a little more water and he is back to sleep within minutes. Now that I have actually spoken to him I feel a lot less anxious. I lie down next to him and finally let sleep claim me, trying to focus on the few hours of bliss we shared right before everything went to hell. 

9:00 AM 

I wake with a start. I sit up while reaching for my glasses, quickly realizing that I am not only alone in the bed, but alone in the room as well. I start to panic until I hear the sound of the toilet flushing followed by water running in the sink. 

Mulder emerges slowly, bracing himself against the wall with his good hand, his bandaged right arm held protectively across his abdomen. I can see his legs trembling from the effort as I get up to go help him. 

"Morning, Walter." 

"Morning. How are you feeling?" 

"Like I've been hit by a truck." 

"I don't doubt it. You should have woken me up so I could help you, babe." I admonish as I help him back into bed. 

"I'm a little banged up, but I can still pee by myself, Walter. I am not completely helpless." 

"A little banged up? Mulder, do you have any idea how scared we were last night? I really didn't think you were going to make it. Now, I know you're not helpless, but you lost a lot of blood and you have a fever-it's weakened you. What if you'd slipped or gotten dizzy and passed out?" I shoot him one of my old surly AD looks. "If you undo all my handiwork I will be really pissed." 

"Sorry. Point taken," he whispered, averting his eyes. 

"Mulder, do you know where Gibson is?" 

"Yeah, he went to get breakfast. He should be back soon. He's really angry at me...other than telling me where he was going he wouldn't talk to me...and the way he looked at me..." 

"It will be okay, Mulder. We'll work through this, just give him a little time." The boy seemed okay last night. I guess after Gibson's initial shock wore off he found his anger over this whole mess. I should say something about what happened yesterday while we have some privacy but I don't even know where to start. 

"Mulder...I..." 

"Walter, please, I know what you're going to say...and I'm sorry-so damned sorry, but I need you to understand..." He sounds so tired, like every word is taking all the energy he can muster. 

"I do, Mulder. I do understand what you tried to do. You saved our lives and you were trying to save yourself, I get that. And I am grateful to you...but I am also very grateful that you didn't succeed. From now on we are going to have to be a lot more careful, because I don't ever want to witness anything like that again..." 

"I am sorry about that too...I wanted to wait until you were both well out of sight. I didn't want you to see...but...Barnes and the others started moving in on me. I couldn't put them off any longer. I guess it's a good thing you weren't gone yet, since I didn't manage to pull it off. That's pretty pathetic, isn't it? I couldn't even manage to shoot myself at point blank range. I should have put the gun in my mouth..." 

"Mulder, please don't talk like that... I know you're disappointed, but for my sake, can you just try and pretend you're happy to still be here with me. Just for a little while...for me...please..." my voice cracks and my eyes start to water, and I wonder if Sharon is watching these particular walls crumbling. 

"Oh, God. Walter, I am so sorry...I didn't mean...I wasn't thinking...forgive me please..." He starts crying. "Of course, I am happy to still be here with you..." 

"Ssshh. It's okay, Babe." I try to sooth him as I carefully put my arms around him. "I didn't mean to upset you either. I think both our nerves are a little raw right now." 

"You're right, but I still shouldn't have said that out loud." 

"Mulder, I don't want you to ever be afraid to tell me what you're thinking. I shouldn't have cut you off. I should have let you finish. It won't happen again, I promise." In less than twenty-four hours I had already done the two things I had sworn to myself I would never do. I had left him when things got bad and I had tried to shut him up when I didn't like what I was hearing. 

"I was just thinking about what would have happened if you hadn't been there to save me. They would still have me and I am sure I would have ended up in restraints 24/7 for the rest of my life so they could make sure I didn't try it again. At least I got you and Gibson out safely. I am glad I accomplished that much. If something had happened to either of you because of me... I just don't know what I'd do..." 

"Have I told you how incredibly brave you were yesterday? I really was amazed, Mulder. I don't think I could have done what you did..." 

"Yes, you could. You have. How many times have you put your life on the line for the people you care about...for me?" 

"Never quite like that, though." 

"Well, thank God for that! I don't recommend it. It's hard on the nerves." He chuckles against my shoulder. 

"Thanks for the tip, I'll try to remember that." 

"I am just glad that moron, Barnes, didn't figure out who you two were. They didn't remember you from the trial. I think things would have gone a lot differently if they'd known who they had." 

"You sure they didn't?" 

"Oh, yeah. After you had walked outside he asked me where I had picked you two up and if you brought the kid along so your wife wouldn't get suspicious of your affairs. After everything I had said to you and Gibson in that room, that was the conclusion he came to. Fucking idiot." 

"What did you tell him?" 

"That you picked me up at a truck stop in New Mexico and that I was whoring myself to you in exchange for a ride back east." He starts laughing. 

"He bought that?" 

"Totally." 

"He is a moron." 

"That's why he's just a hired thug. In that entire unit, I don't think there is complete brain between them." 

"Mulder...the things they said to you...did they..." I felt Mulder tense in my arms and I suddenly can't finish the question. Regret at having brought it up makes my words short and terse. "I'm sorry...never mind." 

"With Branes it was just the one time." His voice was so quiet, and with his face still pressed to my arm, I barely hear him. "Like I said, it was over in under a minute. I think he was too humiliated to try it again. He pretty much stuck to beating the crap out of me after that. Barnes wasn't the worst one. The smaller one, Johnson, he's the seriously demented one. He was the one they had in charge of trying to brainwash me. He and Barnes would take me to...her..." his words trail off and I feel him shudder in my grip. 

"Mulder, sweetheart, it's okay you don't have to tell me any of this if you don't want to, but I want you to know that there's nothing that you could possibly say that would change the way I feel about you. When you're ready to talk, I'll be here." I won't shut him out, I think to myself with grim resolve. Not ever. 

I felt him nod against my shoulder and a few silent tears run down my chest. It looks like he's said as much as he can deal with for now. I suddenly wish I had killed them all, but since I didn't, I settle for hoping that they are suffering horribly. I knew it was a bad way to be thinking, but feeling Mulder shaking in my arms, I can't help it. I want them to pay for what they've done. 

"Can I ask you something else, Mulder?" I want to get him off this train of thought. 

"Sure..." 

"The machine gun, why on earth did you buy that thing?" 

This makes him laugh. "Actually, I bought it for Gibson. I want him to be able to defend himself. I had been trying to teach him to shoot, but guns scare him so badly, he just gets too nervous to focus. He couldn't hit the side of barn with my .38. With the machine gun... aim just isn't that important. The only problem is that this one scares him even more than the handgun. He wouldn't touch it except to keep hiding it my luggage. I'd given up trying to give it back to him." 

"Now that you mention it, I don't think I could really see the boy toting a gun." 

"I know. I really don't think he has it in him to actually point a gun at someone and pull the trigger. Which is one of the things I love about him, but it also makes me more afraid for him." 

10:30 AM 

We're seriously worried about Gibson by the time he gets back. It was hard to resist the urge to scold him. 

He was loaded down with bags from McDonald's. 

"Sorry," he says before either one of us can speak. "This was the best I could do. I drove around looking for something better, but there isn't much in the way of food around here." 

"That's okay. This is fine." I grab an orange juice and a McMuffin and take them to Mulder. 

"I am really not hungry. You and Gibson go ahead and eat. I'd really like to sleep some more before we have to check out." 

"Mulder, please try and eat something. Just eat as much as you can and try to finish as much of the juice as possible, do it for me, okay?" 

"Okay." He sighs. 

I help him sit up and as I touch him I realize his fever is getting worse. His skin is hot and sweaty but he is shivering slightly, and his eyes look a bit glassy. 

I put my hand to his forehead. "Mulder, you're burning up." 

"I don't feel like it, I feel kind of cold actually." 

I go retrieve the aspirin and more water. "Here take these. If it doesn't start to come down soon we'll get you into the tub." 

"No ice bath, please...I really hate that." At my frown, he adds "Ask me about my first trip to the Arctic sometime." 

"We may not have a choice, Babe. Let's hope the aspirin does the trick." 

He takes the pills and leans back against the pillows, "I'm sorry, but I really don't think I can eat right now. I just want to sleep." 

I just sigh and nod and tuck the blankets around him more snugly as he sinks back down in the bed. I kiss his forehead, which is hot and damp under my lips. 

"Okay, get some sleep." I leave him and join Gibson at the small table and try to eat. 

"How is he?" 

"I'm not sure. The fever isn't a good thing, it probably means he has an infection. If he can't fight it off himself then I think we may be in big trouble." 

"Can he travel? We really need to leave soon." 

"How soon?" 

"As soon as we can." 

"Right." I really don't like the idea of being on the road with him like this, but if the kid's right then he's in even more danger if we stay. 

We finish eating and start getting ready to leave. I am really glad we got a room out of site of the manager's office as we remove the two rows of seats from the back of the van and leave them just sitting in the parking lot. I make up a pallet on the floor for Fox using the motel's bed linens and blankets. Once we leave this place the manager is sure to call the police. One of the seats we left behind has a nasty bloodstain on it, then there is the pile of bloody towels and clothes I've left stuffed under the beds in the room. 

Mulder actually seems to be doing a little better as I get him settled in the makeshift bed. 

"You need anything else before we get going, Babe? Water? More morphine?" 

"No, I'm okay." 

"All right, we'll be on our way in a couple of minutes." I get out of the van and slide the door closed. Gibson climbs into the front passenger seat and I take first shift at the wheel. 

"When I was out this morning I switched the license plate on the van and I called Yves to tell her we were on the move again." 

"Good thinking. I completely forgot about Yves." 

"She said she's already moved yours and Mulder's money into a couple of new accounts and she'll have new documentation for all of us in another day or two, we just need to tell her where to send it when we find a place to stop for a while." 

At the next stop light we come to I turn around to look at Mulder. He is already asleep again. He is still way to pale for my liking. 

"Gibson...Mulder thinks you're mad at him about...yesterday. Are you?" 

"Yeah. Why shouldn't I be? He fucking lied to me and he tried to blow his head off! He's a selfish, fucking coward!" 

"Gibson!" I stop myself, before I say something I will regret, even though I am sure he already heard me. I take a deep breath before I continue. "You are so wrong about that and you know it! You said it yourself last night, if he hadn't done what he did, you and I would be dead now. How is that being a selfish coward?" 

"I'm not talking about what he did to get us out. After that...he didn't have to do it. He could have gotten himself out of there if he wanted to, or he could have just given them the gun. We would have gotten him back, we did it before..." 

"I don't think that's true, Gibson. I don't think there was any way he could have gotten away from those men. There was no way they were going to let that happen. I am sure he would have ended up with even worse injuries than he has now if he had tried to escape. And you heard what they were going to do to him. As far as getting him back goes, I am sure they would keep him under much tighter security this time. We don't even know if they would have kept him in the same place--I am sure they have other labs and facilities we don't know about. You know better than anyone what he would be facing if they got him back." He still looks troubled, and I add, "Look, I don't want to lose him either, but I don't ever want to see him suffer through anything like that again. There are worse things than death, Gibson." 

"I know...it's just..." The boy starts to sob. 

I reach over and put my hand on his shoulder. "It's just that he scared the crap out of you. I know. He scared me too. Yesterday made everything way too real. I think up until now it's been kind of a big chess game for you, hasn't it? You two were always one or two moves ahead. Then they caught up and you realized just how high the stakes really are and that you could actually lose. That's kind of how it feels for me." 

"Me too," he sniffles. 

"As for him lying to you...you know he wouldn't have if he felt like he had any other choice. He loves you, he was just trying to do what he thought was right for you, for all of us. I'm pissed off too, Gibson, believe me, but at the people who are really responsible for this. You have every right to feel angry, just make sure you know who it is you're really angry at before you say anything to him about it, okay?" 

"Yeah, okay." Gibson wipes his eyes on his sleeve. "Yesterday, after those men let me go, Mulder told me he was proud...proud to be my father and that he felt really lucky to have a son like me. He didn't lie about that too, did he?" 

"No, he wasn't lying. He loves you very much and he is very proud of you." I smile and ruffle his hair. So, this is where the anger was coming from. "And Gibson, he is lucky to have a son like you. Any man would be." 

"Thanks, Walter. He really loves you too, you know." 

"Yeah, I know." I couldn't help smiling. 

The next several hundred miles pass in relative silence. We had only stopped twice, once at a rest stop and again for more fast food. Mulder isn't improving, but he doesn't seem to be getting worse either, although he's still not eating. 

We all breathed a sigh of relief as we crossed the state line into Wyoming. 

3:00 PM  
Rock Spring, Wyoming 

"Walter, I think you should pull over and check on Mulder. I think something's wrong." 

I look over at the boy's frightened face and decide it's best to do what he says. I ease the van onto the shoulder and come to a stop. 

"Mulder?" I climb into the back of the van. He is shivering violently, his eyes are open and glassy. "Mulder, can you hear me?" I take his face in my hands and his skin is absolutely on fire. "Oh, damn. Mulder?" He is completely unresponsive. 

"He can't hear or see you, Walter." 

"What's happening, Gibson?" 

"I am not sure...it's all just dark. He's really cold and really scared. He can't hear anything..." 

"Shit." I have a good idea of where he thinks he is right now and I have no idea how to reach him. "Gibson, I need you to start driving. Find us a motel. We have got to get his fever down." 

"His coffin? Really?" Gibson looks horrified. 

"I don't know. Please, get us moving." 

The boy nods and scrambles for the driver's seat and quickly enough, we're pulling out into traffic. I gather Fox up into my arms and hold him tightly against me. I stroke his hair and kiss his face hoping that he can feel me. Maybe the contact will help. 

"I am so sorry, baby. I should have kept a closer eye on you. Why didn't you tell me you where feeling this bad when you still could?" 

I keep babbling at him and caressing him until I felt the van come to a stop. 

"Okay, Walter. I'll stay with him while you go get a room." 

I barely remember signing in and handing the manager a wad of cash. I must have used the light sleeper story again because we have a room as far away as we can get from the office. I carry Mulder inside and lay him on the bed. 

"Gibson I want you to go find a convenience store and buy a couple bags of ice. Be as quick as you can, okay." 

He is gone without a word. I quickly strip Mulder of his clothes and carry him to the bathtub. I turn the cold water on high and sit down on the edge of the tub. As the water rises I begin removing his bandages. The cuts on his torso look fine, as does his head, but his right arm is another matter entirely. 

There are angry red veins spiraling out from the bullet hole like tentacles. The wound itself is inflamed and oozing. 

"Damn. I'm so sorry, Fox. We'll fix this I promise...you'll get better." Maybe if I keep saying it I might actually start to believe it. 

Gibson returns with the ice and we dump the three large bags into the water. Mulder is still unresponsive, but it does seem to be working. His face is still warm, but it's not the blazing heat that it was. 

"Would you bring me the first aid kit, Gibson?" 

I'm not sure if any of this will even help at this point, but I hold his arm out over the side of the tub and place the trashcan under it. The peroxide erupts into foam upon contact and I keep pouring until I run out. I follow the peroxide with every other antiseptic product we have and cover the wound with a loose bandage. 

"I think he's starting to come out of it." 

Gibson is right. Mulder moves on his own for the first time since this started, just a slight shift of his body, weak and ineffective, but at least it's something. I check his forehead again and he feels almost normal. 

"All right, I am going to get him out of here." I lift him out of tub and Gibson helps me dry him off. I hear him mumble something I can't make out as I get him under the covers. 

He has finally closed his eyes and his breathing seems steady. 

"He's just asleep now." Gibson sighs. "Is he going to be okay?" 

"I don't know. He needs to be in a fucking hospital. I just don't know what else to do for him. I think he needs antibiotics, but we can't get those without going to a doctor." 

"Basically, we're screwed." 

"Yeah, that pretty much sums it up." 

"So, are we just going to sit here and watch him die?" I don't need to be a mind reader to get the anger coming off the boy. 

"Gibson, please, I am trying to think. If you have any great ideas about what to do, I'd be happy to hear them." I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose where tension headache number two million one is trying to take hold. "Hell, I am sorry, Gibson. I didn't mean to snap at you." 

"I know, it's okay." 

"You should have cut the arm off last night." Krycek is suddenly standing there in front of me, and I am more bitter than surprised. 

"Yeah, you would have just loved that, you asshole." 

"Well, I admit there would have been a certain amount of poetic justice in it." I get a typical smart-ass grin, and then he's serious and scowling at me. "It's too late now though. The infection has moved into his blood stream, there wouldn't be any point in it now. He's lookin' at a slow painful death from blood poisoning, the upside being that most of the time he will be too delirious from the fever to notice the pain." 

"Alex, just shut the fuck up. We really don't need this right now." 

"Of course, you still have enough morphine to give him a nice peaceful overdose." 

"God damnit, Krycek! I said shut up! If you're not here to help, just leave." 

"Well, I don't know if it will help, but I do have some news. You've been made. They know you and the kid are traveling with Mulder. They showed your pictures to Johnson and he made a positive ID. You're a wanted man, Walt." 

"Fucking great. Damn, I wish I had killed them." 

"Yeah. You made another big mistake, too. You shouldn't have left so much evidence behind in Colorado. They thought Mulder was dead until they found the second motel room. When they found the bullet they also found a bone fragment and a bit of his scalp. Between that and the amount of blood at the scene, they were 99% sure he was dead. They thought they were looking for a body until they found all the bandages and crap you left behind. Now they think there is a good chance he's still alive. Mulder had bought his freedom until you fucked it up." 

"Like I said...if you're not here to help..." When I looked up again, Alex was gone. 

"What are we going to do, Walter?" Gibson whispered. 

"I just don't know." There's hard choices to be made, and I don't feel up to making them. Either we take our chances on a hospital and the local PD or I give him enough morphine to let him go in peace. Neither option sounded like a good plan to me. "I need to rest, Gibson. I just really can't do this right now." 

"Mulder would take the morphine." 

"Yeah, you're probably right about that, but he's not in any shape to make that decision right now. Is that what you want to do, Gibson?" 

"No! No, that's not what I want, but if we take him to the hospital...he might live, but we'll lose him for sure." 

"I know. Look, we are just talking in circles now. Let's get some rest. Maybe we can come up with another idea. Maybe when he wakes up he can tell us what he wants to do." 

"Okay, but I don't think we should wait too long." 

"We won't. Just give me an hour or two." I strip down to my boxers lie down next to Mulder, wrapping my arms around him. I need this right now. I need to feel him, warm, soft and alive against me. How did everything get so fucked up so fast? 

7:30 PM 

I am awakened by Mulder squirming and mumbling in his sleep. His temperature is up again. I sit up next to him and take his face in my hands. 

"Mulder, can you hear me? Wake up, babe. You're having a bad dream." His eyes open but he's not seeing me and he begins to thrash violently, trying to push my hands away. 

"No...no...don't touch me!!" He screams at me. 

Gibson comes running over to the bed. "He's hallucinating...it's all jumbled up in his head. He thinks he's on the ship, but there's the military doctors and Johnson and his father and aliens..." 

Gibson is cut off when Mulder starts screaming bloody murder. I clamp my hand over his mouth and try to pin him down with my body, praying that nobody heard him. The last thing we need is for the police to come crashing in here. 

"Gibson, go get more ice...NOW!" 

"but..." 

"No buts, just go...Hurry!!" 

The boy finally runs out the door and I hear the van start up. I am barely able to keep Mulder under control. I have no idea where he is getting the strength to fight like this. Then I realize that he isn't fighting, he's having a seizure. 

Eventually he just goes limp and I carefully release him. He appears to have passed out, so I move him back to the bathtub and start the water again. 

I take a washcloth and start wringing cold water over his head and chest. The infection is now streaking up past the bandages making his arm look like a road map. Another day or two and it will reach into his brain, if the fever doesn't kill him first. 

"Damnit, Mulder, don't do this to me. You can't die on me, not now, not like this..." I break down and start sobbing. 

"Walter..." It's barely a whisper. I look up to see him staring at me with fever glazed eyes. 

"Yeah, baby, I am here." I rest my palm against his cheek and kiss him gently. 

"cold..." 

"I know, but we need to get your fever down. Just hang in there a little longer. Gibson will be back soon with some ice, then it wont be long before we can get you out of there." 

A half hour later Gibson still hasn't returned. I keep sponging cold water over Mulder's face and neck. It seems to be helping. I don't know how much longer I can do this to him, he's shivering so hard I can hear his teeth chattering. 

"ppplease...out... now..." he begs me. 

"In a minute, babe. Hang in there. You're doing great." I put my wrist against his forehead, he's a little warm but not dangerously so. He seems much more lucid and his eyes have lost their fevered gleam. "Okay, Fox. Let's get you out of here for a little while and see how you do, okay?" 

He just nods at me and I help him out of the tub. He's still shivering so hard he can barely stand on his own. I get him dry and back into bed. He manages some more aspirin and a glass of water. Gibson is still not back. 

"Where are we?" 

"Rock Spring, Wyoming." 

"Are we safe here?" 

"I think so, for now anyway. How are you feeling?" 

"Tired. My arm hurts...a lot." He looks down at the angry red veins as he says it. "Blood poisoning...well, that's it then...I'm going to die." 

I know what he says is true, but I just can't admit defeat. Not yet. 

"We can still get you to a hospital, Mulder. We've been waiting for you to wake up so we could talk to you about our options." 

"What options?" 

"We can take our chances at the hospital, maybe we can keep you under the radar, false information, make up something about the bullet wound..." 

"And end up with all three of us getting caught. Walter, you shot up a motel and wounded three U.S. soldiers. Do you really think they aren't looking for you too? What about Gibson? What happens to him? I didn't go through the last two years for it to all end like that. What's the other option?" 

I don't want to talk about the other option. I was really hoping that he would want to try for the hospital. 

"The other option...we have enough morphine left to keep you comfortable..." I can't even look at him as I say it. 

"Good...that's good..." he says quietly. "Do you think Gibson's okay? Shouldn't he be back?" 

"Yeah, he should be." I am so relieved he has changed the subject, "He was pretty upset when he left...I'm sure he's okay. I think maybe he needed some time to think...It's damn irresponsible of him though. I was counting on him." 

"Try to remember that he's just a kid, Walter. A kid who's been through more than anyone should have to go through. I know he feels largely responsible for what happened. I need you to help him get past that. Don't let him carry that guilt around for the rest of his life. It will ruin him...just like my guilt over Samantha ruined me..." 

"Mulder..." 

"I mean it. He's really going to need you, Walter. Don't let him tell you otherwise." 

I nod and try to smile for him. "Don't worry about him. I made you a promise and I plan on keeping it." 

He smiles at me as a stray tear escapes his eye. "I need to ask you for one more thing, my love." 

"Anything you need, babe." I can barely get the words out. 

"Bring the box of morphine over here." 

"You need another shot? Sure, I'll get you one..." I stand and head for the first aid kit. 

"No, Walter...just bring me the box...that's all you have to do...just bring it here and leave it on the nightstand. Okay?" 

I stand there staring at him as my heart shatters into a million pieces. This is really going to happen. I am about to lose him. 

"It's okay, Walter...I shouldn't have asked you...I'll get it..." He starts trying to sit up and I can see the pain this movement is causing him. 

"No...stay there, I've got it." I can't believe I'm doing this even as I get the small box out of the kit and place it hesitantly on the nightstand. 

"Thank you." He takes my hand and presses his lips into my palm. The kiss feels like a kind of absolution. "Would you hold me, Walter?" 

I lean over and kiss him passionately. He returns the kiss with less strength but no less passion, and it's with real reluctance that I pull away. I lift him up and slide in behind him so that he's sitting between my legs. Easing him back against my chest as I rest my back against the headboard. I carefully wrap my right arm around him, resting my hand on his heart, feeling it's slow steady rhythm. With my other hand I stroke his hair. 

"Is this okay, Babe? You comfortable?" 

"Yes...thank you...how many...how many will it take?" 

I choke back a sob and take a deep breath, "uh...not many...five or six...I think..." There is a steady stream of tears pouring down my face. "You don't have to do this now, Babe...There is still time..." I know he's not going to change his mind, but I am just not ready...hell, I'll never be ready. I know he wants to do this while he can still do it himself. I know he is trying to spare me having to do it for him. 

"I think it's better if Gibson isn't here." 

Gibson. I had already forgotten about him. He's been gone almost two hours. Part of me wants to hunt him down and kick his ass for abandoning us, but there is another part of me that is glad that it's just the two of us. If this is the end then I want these last moments to be all mine. 

"You know this isn't the end, Walter. You're never going to be rid of me. I'll be around to drive you crazy for the rest of this life and then I am going to follow you into the next one and drive you crazy there too." 

I squeeze him tighter and kiss the top of his head. "You'd better." I manage to choke out. "I love you so much, Fox. Are you really sure about this? We could still go to the hospital..." 

"Ssshhh...I love you too...more than you'll ever know. I wouldn't trade the last few days for anything, Walter, but you've taken enough risks...you've already sacrificed too much...it's time for all this madness to stop." His voice is so soft and soothing, he almost has me agreeing him. 

"I would do it all over again, Mulder..." 

"Even if it still ended like this?" 

"Absolutely." 

"Me, too." he whispers as he reaches for the box on the table. He opens the case and takes out six of the small cartridges and places the box back on the nightstand. I am openly sobbing as he unwraps each one and places them in a line on his lap. "Can you sing, Walter?" 

"What?" 

"Can you sing?" 

"Uh...no, I can't...Why?" I am completely thrown by the question. I can't imagine why he would be asking me this now. "You want me to sing to you?" 

"No. Just curious." 

"Oh." 

"I can't either." 

"Oh." I realize what he's just done, he's distracted me just enough that I stopped crying and I didn't see the first needle go into his arm. As he picks up the second one I gasp. "Mulder, don't..." 

"Ssshhh..." is all he says as the second needle sinks into his arm and he presses the plunger. 

"Oh, God...baby...please..." I am sobbing again, pulling him tighter against me. 

He has the third one in his hand when the door swings open and Gibson charges in followed by Frohike, Byers and Langly. 

"Mulder, stop!" Frohike yells at him. 

That's enough for me to grab Mulder's wrist before he can sink the needle. 

"Walter..." 

"Just wait...hear what he has to say...I'll help you afterwards if you still need to do it..." 

Poor Gibson is standing there completely horrified, his eyes wide his mouth trying to form words that aren't coming. 

"What is it, Melvin?" Mulder sighs and slumps back against me. 

"We've been doing a little shopping. Show him what we brought, Gibson. Gibson?" 

The boy finally looks at Frohike and nods. He puts the backpack he's carrying down on the bed and opens it up. He starts pulling out medical supplies, saline IV bags, tubing, needles and bandages. He up ends the bag on the bed and a pile of pill bottles and small glass ampules tumble out. 

"What the hell have you been doing, Gibson?" The morphine is starting to hit him, his speech is starting to slur. 

"Mulder, don't be mad at the kid." Langly jumps in, "It was Frohike's idea. It was just a harmless game of drugstore cowboy--or in this case hospital pharmacy cowboy. We were with him the whole time. He was perfectly safe. We got everything you could possibly need..." 

"Are you out of your mind? You robbed a hospital? Do you have any idea how dangerous..." his words trail off and he goes slack in my arms. He's out cold. 

"How many did he get in him?" Byers asks. 

"Two." 

"Okay, he'll be asleep for the next twelve hours or so, but I don't think it's enough to hurt him. I am glad we got here when we did." 

"Me, too." I don't think I have ever spoken more sincere words. 

"I suggest you get out of bed, Walter, you've got work to do." 

Day 6  
3:00 AM 

Thank God for small town hospitals with slack security and small staffs. Mulder is sleeping peacefully, too far under to even dream. The Gunmen finally left around one thirty, once they all agreed that everything was under control here. I had to ice him down again around midnight, but his temperature seems to be staying under control now. 

My first time putting an IV into someone did not go as well as I'd hoped. Mulder's arms now look like those of a seasoned junkie. I finally managed to get it right using a vein in the back of his right hand. I have to give the Gunmen a lot of credit, they actually knew what they were doing and were able to talk me through the whole thing. After getting the IV hooked up and secured to the headboard, I loaded it with what they told me was a powerful full spectrum antibiotic. We'll keep him on the IV until we run out of them and then switch him to tablet form. 

Gibson has gone to bed, but not before reading me the riot act about what almost happened here. I let him, I didn't try to defend myself, he can blame me all he needs to. How can I possibly be angry at him after what he did tonight? I just wish I had been the one to think of it. It was so simple really, Mulder can't go to the hospital, so bring the hospital to Mulder. 

Gibson was right, I had given up too quickly. I have even less fight left in me than Mulder. At least Mulder still has enough resolve to live or die on his own terms. As much as I didn't want to lose him, I was equally relieved to have Mulder take the decision out of my hands. I wonder if that's why the Gunmen went to Gibson instead of me? I feel like such a coward. 

"You're no coward, Walter." Says a voice from behind me. 

"Krycek, I am really not up for any of your shit right now." 

"I am not here to give you shit. You sound like you could use a friend right now." 

"You want to be my friend all of the sudden, Krychek? You really expect me to believe that?" I continue keeping my back to the man-ghost-bane of my existenceeven as he insists on talking to me. 

"Well, believe what you want. The three stooges didn't come to you because Gibson was the one behind the wheel. If you'd gone on the ice run, then you would have been the one to go to the hospital. That's all it was. They weren't making any judgments on your character. Besides, Gibson wouldn't have been able to ride out that seizure or get him in the tub. The fever would have cooked his brain before you got back. It all went the best possible way, Walt." 

"Yeah, I guess you have a point. Except...I..." I turn to face him, and he can see what I want to say written all over my face. 

"Except you helped him try to off himself. Out of love and compassion, Walter, not cowardice. You didn't want him to suffer. And who wouldn't be relieved not to have to make that kind of decision for someone they love? For Christ's sake, that's not being a coward, that's just plain human. If you'd had to, you would have made the right call and you know it." 

"No, I don't know..." 

"Yeah, you do. Otherwise you wouldn't have helped him. You wouldn't have given it to him, you wouldn't have told him how much to take and you certainly wouldn't have held him while he did it. So, ease up on yourself. Just be glad that this crisis is over." 

"Thank you, Alex." Three words I never thought I would hear come out of my mouth. "Why are you being so nice to me?" 

"Maybe, I think you've earned a little compassion yourself. Maybe, I'm feeling guilty for being such prick earlier. Does it really matter?" 

"No, I guess not. Alex, can I ask you something?" 

"Sure." 

"Those men...did you know they were coming? Did you know and not tell us?" 

"Damn, Walter, if that's the kind of treatment I am going to get when I am playing nice, I'll just go back to being an asshole!" 

"Just answer the question. You said you were feeling guilty, I thought maybe you were feeling guilty over more than just a few snide remarks." 

"No. I didn't know this time. I don't know why I didn't pick up on them. Of course, I did get a little distracted watching Mulder fuck you senseless." He leers at me. 

"Damn it, Krychek, stop spying on us you little shit!" 

"Oh, please. Like you wouldn't do the exact same thing if you were in my position?" 

"No, I wouldn't. Would you just leave now, please?" 

"Yeah, whatever. Just you wait." He snorts. "You should get some sleep. You need to get back on the road in a few hours. Switch the plate on the van again before you head out. There were security cameras in the hospital parking lot. Keep heading northwest." 

"Okay." He was gone before I answered him. I check on Mulder one more time before lying down to try and sleep. He's still running a low grade fever, but it hasn't changed any in the last few hours. I am sure it's just my imagination, but he looks better to me. I think he already has a bit more color. Even if it is all in my head it allows me to relax enough to drift into a light sleep. 

7am 

I wake to the sound of water running through old rattling pipes. I lift my head and look around to see that Gibson's bed is empty. I hope there is plenty of hot water left when he's done, the idea of a scalding hot shower sounds like heaven. 

I roll over and stare at my lover's chest as it rises and falls in a slow steady rhythm. I reach out to feel his forehead and am startled by the realization that we aren't alone. There is a stern looking gray haired woman standing over him. 

"Mrs. Mulder?" 

"Mr. Skinner." Her voice is cold and venomous. 

I sit up and grab my glasses. I decide it's best to try the polite approach. "It's nice to finally meet you." 

"I'm sorry that I can't say the same about you. You should be ashamed of yourself!" 

"Excuse me?" 

"My son is a very sick boy, Mr. Skinner. You've taken advantage of his weakness just to satisfy your own perverted needs!" 

"Now, just wait one damn minute..." Okay, the polite approach just went right out the window. "I've done no such thing. I haven't and I wouldn't do anything to hurt him. I love him. He loves me. There is nothing for either of us to be ashamed of." 

"Of course, you'd say that. That's what you people always say." 

"You people? What people are those?" 

"Deviants. Even more disgusting is the way you two are carrying on in front of my grandson. If Fox wasn't so ill he would see how wrong this is and he wouldn't be allowing the boy to be corrupted by your filth." She leans forward and brushes a phantom hand over his brow, making me shudder. It should be a warm motherly gesture, but it doesn't feel that way to me. 

"Fox was always an impressionable, easily lead child. He was cured of these tendencies before and he still would be if it wasn't for your influence." 

"Cured...?" I don't even want to think about the story behind that comment. I can't believe I am having to deal with this before I have even had a cup of coffee. "Mrs. Mulder, I really don't care what you think about me, but I won't sit here and listen to you talk about Fox like this. I really think you should leave now." 

"He's my son, Mr. Skinner. I have more right to be here than you." 

Now I am really getting angry. "Your son? You mean the child you tried to kill in your womb by allowing a bunch of mad scientists to experiment on him? The little boy you let them continue to use as a guinea pig? The kid you made feel responsible for losing his sister? The one you allowed them to...molest...every chance they got? The one you lied to over and over again? Is that the son you're talking about? I don't see how you can stand there and lecture me about morals with your track record! You've got a lot of nerve, lady." I realize I am yelling and I take a deep breath and try to calm down, praying that Mulder is still too far under to hear any of this. 

If she wasn't already dead, I think Teena Mulder would have had another stroke right there on the spot. Gibson chooses that moment to walk out of the bathroom. 

"He's right, you shouldn't be here. Mulder told you not to come back. He doesn't want to see you. Just go." 

When I turn back to face her she is gone. "Thanks, Gibson. Is she always like that?" 

"Pretty much. Mulder finally told her to stay the hell out of his life last summer after she went off about Scully not being good enough for him...called her a whore. This was the first time she's been back. You were great, Walter. You really put her in her place!" 

"Thanks. Can't say I feel very good about it though." 

"Yeah, well, don't feel too bad about it either. You didn't say anything that wasn't true. Nothing she didn't deserve." 

"Man, this is so not the way I wanted to start my day." I moan rubbing the sleep from my eyes. 

"It could have been worse...it could have been Bill Mulder...or Spender." 

I don't even want to think about those potential conversations. "Good point." I look down at Mulder and his face is so peaceful. I am so glad he's missed this wake up call. The last thing he needs is more stress. Stroking his face and hair, I am so relieved that he feels almost normal. The red veins on his upper arm are starting to fade. I think he's going to make it. 

"Why don't you grab a shower and I will go get us coffee and breakfast." 

"Sounds good, thanks." 

Gibson heads out the door as I try to pry myself away from Mulder. I know I am only going to be a few feet away, but I just don't want to let him out of my sight. 

"I'll stay with him while you get a shower, Walter. I'll get you if there is a problem." Byers is back. 

"Thanks. I know it's silly, but..." 

"No, it's not. After everything that's happened I totally understand how you feel. I wouldn't want to leave him alone either if I were you. Now, get going, you're pretty ripe." 

I just smile and nod and head for the shower. The shower feels just as good as I thought it would. The pounding, hot water is starting to dissolve a few of the knots in my shoulders. Idly, I fantasize about the next place we stay having a spa so I could spend several days getting massaged around the clock. 

When I rejoin Byers, Gibson has just returned with more fast food and coffee. He is giving John the play by play of my encounter with Mulder's mother. 

"Well done, Walter. Teena Mulder can be a formidable opponent." 

"I don't know...I guess she could be if her arguments were at all supportable, but they're not. She really isn't in a position to be taking the moral high ground with anyone." 

"True enough, but I still wouldn't want to get into a fight with her." Byers grins. 

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I hope that was my first and last encounter with that woman." I take a sip of my coffee and look over at Mulder and wonder how the hell he managed to become the man he is. Teena's comment about 'curing' him is still nagging at the back of my mind. 

"I know the story but it's one I think you should ask Mulder about when he's up to it. I heard it one night after one too many shots of tequila. He'll probably tell you about it eventually." Byers said quietly. "It's not a happy story, but then he doesn't really have very many of those." 

"Yeah, I didn't think it would be." I frown and sip more coffee, which for fast food coffee, is really good. 

"It's time to hook up a new bag. Do you need me to take you through it?" 

"I think I remember, but keep an eye on me and stop me if I start to screw up." I manage to start a new bag and load it with more of the antibiotic without too much trouble. Still, I am really glad Byers came by to help. As I rig the new bag to the headboard, Mulder starts to stir. 

"Mulder, sweetheart? You with us?" His head slowly turns toward my voice and those beautiful eyes struggle open. "Hey babe, how ya feelin'?" 

"Mmmm...sleepy..." 

"That's okay. Go back to sleep, Fox. We have a few hours before we have to get going." 

"Don't wanna...sleep... sit up." 

"Okay, I'll help you." I help him sit up, propping him up against the pillows. "Better?" 

"Yeah. Thanks." he seems a bit more lucid now. 

"How are you really? Are you in any pain?" 

"Not bad...I don't want anymore drugs..." 

"That's fine, just let me know if you change your mind. We have other painkillers now, stuff that won't mess you up as bad as the morphine, so keep that in mind." 

"Thanks. Are we...are we okay, Walter?" He looks frightened. "Do you hate me now?" 

"What? Of course not. Where would you get a crazy idea like that? You must still be loopy from the morphine! We are just fine, Mulder." I smile and lean in for a kiss. 

As I pull away he is smiling and his eyes are watering slightly. "I just thought...after last night..." 

"Well, you're obviously too stoned to be trying strenuous things like thinking, so just cut it out." I tease. "I love you, Fox. We are just fine." 

"I love you, too." 

"I know. Now, you need anything? How about some juice?" 

"Coffee smells good." He smiles at me. 

"I'll tell you what, you down some juice and I'll let you have some of my coffee, okay?" 

"Deal." 

Gibson is standing by the bed holding out a bottle of orange juice before I can get up. Mulder reaches out to take it, staring at Gibson with a pleading look. They stare at each in silence for what seems like an eternity to me. Finally, Gibson sits on the edge of the bed and takes Mulder in an awkward hug. 

"It's okay. I understand...I really do. I love you, too...Dad." The word makes Mulder choke back a sob and he pulls the boy tighter against him. I admit it even makes me misty. I look over at Byers who is wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. We smile at each other. We are probably thinking the same thing. Gibson just gave Mulder the best gift he possibly could, one more reason to keep living. 

11:30 AM 

I get Mulder settled in the back of the van, hanging his IV from the window latch. "You comfortable, Mulder? You want me to swipe some more pillows?" 

"No, I'm fine. Walter, I am so sorry..." 

"Would you stop apologizing? I told you already, we're good, Mulder. I was there too, remember? I am very aware of what _WE_ were doing. Besides, I have a long list of things you can do to make it up to me when you're feeling better." I give him my most lascivious smile and he grins back at me. "Now, just lie back and get some rest...you're going to need it." 

"Yes, Sir!" He chuckles. 

I help Gibson gather the rest of our stuff. This time we leave nothing behind. I throw the bag of old bandages and used medical supplies into the dumpster behind the motel and we hit the road. 

4:00pm 

We are almost to the Idaho border when I decide it's time to take a break and pick a destination. I pull over at a rest stop and Gibson and I hop out of the van and slide the side door open. Mulder is sitting up huddled against the back of the driver's seat, his knees pulled up tight to his chest and he's rocking slightly. His expression is one of absolute terror. 

"Mulder, what is it? Are you okay?" 

He just nods. I start to climb into the back when he stops me. 

"No...please...don't come any closer...I'm sorry..." He buries his face against his knees. 

Gibson puts his hand on my arm. "It's okay. He'll be all right. Dad, Walter and I are going to go find a bathroom. We'll be right back. Just try to relax, okay?" There is something resembling a nod from Mulder. Gibson grabs the map off the front seat and sets it on the floor next to Mulder. "It's time to start thinking about a place to aim for. If you feel up to it, maybe you could take a look at the map and see if anything jumps out at you." 

There is a muffled "okay" as Gibson slides the door closed. 

"What's going on? Are you sure we should leave him?" 

"He'll be all right. It's kind of like a panic attack. You just can't get near him when he's like this. I was hoping it was going to pass before we stopped. Before you came, he used to get like this a couple times a day. He'll be okay eventually if we just let him be." 

"How long has it been going on?" I can't help continuing to look back at the van as we walk towards the bathrooms. 

"Since he was returned...after you dug him up. It didn't happen that often the year he spent with me, but it had gotten a lot worse by the time I found him and Dana last summer. It passes quicker if he can get someplace small, like a closet or under a table." 

"Christ. I had no idea." 

"Why would you? It hasn't been happening since you've been with him." He smiles at me. 

"Do you know what brings it on? Did I do something?" 

"No, no you didn't do anything. There usually isn't any reason behind it. It just comes out of nowhere. He just gets so scared...he can't control it. As long as you don't badger him like Scully did, it will pass." 

"You don't care much for her do you?" 

"She meant well. She's a good FBI agent, a good doctor, and a good person, but she'd make a lousy shrink. She didn't like my being around much either. She didn't like me knowing everything she was thinking. She didn't like that I know him better than she does. She never said it, but she thought some pretty mean things about me." 

"Mulder told me he deliberately tried to make her leave, I am sure a lot of her reactions were because of what he was doing." 

"Yeah, but before that...Oh, never mind. It doesn't matter now. You're here now and you're better for him than she was. I knew you would be." 

"I am glad you think so...I wish I could be so sure..." I sigh. 

"Well, you should be. A lot of scary stuff has happened, but he is better. You'll just have to take my word for it." 

"Your word is good enough for me. Thanks." I smile at him. 

"Anytime." 

When we get back to the van Mulder looks completely wiped out, but he's not freaking out any more. He has the map spread out in front of him. 

"Did you find us a place?" Gibson asks him as he climbs in to sit next to him. 

"Yeah. Here." He smiles pointing at a spot on the map. 

"Spirit Lake, Idaho." Gibson grins. "Sounds like our kind of place." 

Mulder closes his eyes and leans his head back. "There's a little old lady who rents out two little cabins on the water. Each one has it's own little dock and a rowboat. They're pretty secluded compared to the nicer more touristy rentals. Emma...Emma Watson...we should rent from her. She'll take cash and won't ask a lot of questions. It would be nice if we could stay the whole summer." 

Spooky lives. He didn't get that from looking at any map. I want to ask where he got this information, but at the same time I am not sure if I really want to know. I had witnessed the Spooky routine a couple of times back in Mulder's profiling days. It's just as unnerving now as it was then. 

"Speaking of cash. We need to get a hold of Yves. We're getting a little low." I deftly change the subject. 

"We'll get a motel when we get to Spirit Lake and have her send everything overnight to the motel. It'll be okay." Mulder smiles and that simple pleased look does more to assuage my doubts than anything else. 

"Okay. Sounds like we actually have a plan. I am going to hook you up with a new IV and change your bandages then we'll hit the road. This is the last one, Mulder. After this we can get that needle out of you and put you on the pills." 

"Sounds good to me. This thing is really annoying." 

"I am sure it is, but this is definitely some potent stuff. Your arm looks a lot better now than it did last night and your temp is almost normal. Your color is better too. How do you feel?" 

"Pretty good, tired, but not much pain." 

"Do you want a Percocet?" 

"Yeah, okay." 

I hand him the pill and a bottle of water. "You need anything else before we get going?" 

"No, I'm just going to sleep, I think." 

"Okay." I turn to leave and he suddenly grabs me and pulls me close for a passionate kiss. 

"Thank you, Walter." I feel the words more with my lips than I hear them with my ears. 

"For what?" I am teasing a little, but the response I get is wholly serious. 

"Everything." 

Day 9  
3 days later  
Spirit Lake, Idaho  
10:30 AM 

Mulder's description of this place was completely accurate, right down to Emma Watson, the no-nonsense, elderly landlady. He brought us right to her with confident directions. "Turn here" and "two blocks that way" and "that's her house right there". It totally creeped me out. 

Weirder still was that it seemed like she was expecting us and she talks to Mulder like she's known him forever. She had our relationship figured out from the moment we knocked on her door. Fortunately, she's not at all bothered by it. I have a feeling she isn't charging us as much as she normally does either. 

She gave us the cabin that she said was the most secluded, assuring us that we would have absolute privacy here. Of course, that's absolute privacy only if you don't count the two times she has already stopped by to see how we're settling in and to bring us homemade cookies and a pie. I think she has some sort of over active grandma instinct and is trying to fatten Mulder up. Not that I blame her on that point. He is still painfully thin and he tires easily, but he is getting better. 

I have to admit, I love this place. There is still a crisp chill in the air, but there are signs that spring is going to burst onto the scene at any moment, and it's going to be beautiful when it happens. I really hope we can stay here. Emma has already told us that people have stayed here through the winter before and that we are more than welcome to do so if we choose. 

This morning I gave Gibson his first fishing lesson. He loved it and we caught a couple of the fattest trout I've ever seen. I must say I loved it too. Actually teaching the kid something, seeing the look of pride and excitement on his face when he reeled in his first fish was great. It made me feel very, dare I say, paternal. I feel like we are really becoming a family and I couldn't be happier about it. 

11:00 PM 

Gibson had crashed early and I took advantage of the situation to seduce Fox on the living room floor in front of a roaring fire. Now, spooned up behind him and drifting in post-coital bliss, I feel him shudder and draw in a shaky breath. 

"What's wrong, babe? You okay?" I whisper, nuzzling his hair. 

"Walter...I need...there are things I want you to know..." 

"You can tell me anything..." 

"I am afraid..." the words come out a shaky half-moan. 

"I know, but you don't have to be. It's okay. I am right here and I am not going anywhere." I wrap my arms more tightly around him, kissing his neck. 

I spend the next several hours listening, crying, listening some more and trying to comfort him without discouraging him from getting it all out. He tells me everything, at least I hope to God it's everything. The truth is worse than I could have imagined, and at more than one moment in his story, I honestly don't think I can bear one more word. 

I think I know one of the reasons he was afraid to tell me any of this. I have no idea what to do with the monstrous rage I am now feeling. I want to smash and break things. I want to severely punish the ones responsible, but they are all beyond my reach. An entire race of alien beings, certain members of our government and military, Spender, Mulder's parents-there's no one I can hold accountable for any of this. No one I can personally punish. I think the only thing keeping me in check is the fact that the rage is outweighed by the need to make Mulder feel safe and protected. My running around screaming and throwing dishes isn't going to help him one bit. 

His description of what the aliens did to him and his consequent burial had been horrific, but for some reason that little horror tale doesn't upset me quite as much as what he had suffered through while incarcerated at Quantico. I know why that is, despite the terrible things perpetrated on him by the aliens. It's because they were aliens-emotionless creatures that saw him strictly as a lab rat. But those people at Quantico-those 'men'-they were creatures for whom treating him like a lab animal wasn't enough. They were fellow 'human beings' who tortured him emotionally and physically for pleasure. They tortured him just because they could. These were the kind of people Mulder would have hunted had they been doing these things outside of that compound. 

When he finishes his tale, he crashes out almost immediately. Finally speaking the words has sapped every ounce of energy he had left. I just hope his cathartic confession will allow him to sleep peacefully tonight. As for myself, I don't feel like I will ever sleep again. It's now four in the morning, I am on my third beer and I still feel too much like bashing someone's head in to even try to sleep. So, I just sit here and watch him in the glow of the fire. He hasn't moved a muscle in the last hour. 

Any resentment or anger left over from him trying to blow his head off is now gone. I would have made the exact same call if I were him, although I doubt I would have able to be so calm in the face of all those memories--I am even more impressed now by the way he handled himself in that room. At the same time, strangely enough, I am not nearly as worried about him as I was before. He's made it this far, and as long as we stay ahead of the enemy, I think he will be all right. Of course, if I ever even catch a glimpse of Johnson or Barnes, or this Dr. Marsh, they will be very dead very quickly. I have a nearly pathological urge to hunt them down and take them out before they have a chance to find us again. Mulder may be above seeking revenge, but I am not. 

"You need to chill out, Walter." Byers is back. "Carrying around that kind of rage isn't good for you...or for Mulder. They will all get what's coming to them eventually." 

"That's just not good enough, John. Leaving it up to _karma_ or whatever, just isn't enough." 

"It's going to have to be. Turning into some crazed Charles Bronson parody isn't going to do any of you any good. If it makes you feel any better, you inflicted a lot of damage already. Johnson lost his right hand and his spleen and Barnes is going to have a severe limp from that shattered hip. Their careers are pretty much over. You and Doggett rescued Mulder on their watch, so they were sent to find him in order to redeem themselves to their superiors. They fucked that up big time. The DOD is still not sure Mulder is even alive. Those two will get bumped down to KP duty or something like that. There is still the possibility that the powers that be will decide to just kill them because they know too much. Even the good doctor hasn't escaped unscathed. Johnson spilled his guts in an attempt to save his own ass. The DOD has taken the baby and her husband is divorcing her. They won't get rid of her because she's one of their top scientists, but now she is going to have to experiment on her own kid, just like she did all the others. She's paying for her sins. You don't have to do anything else to them." 

It's not enough. "I want them dead." I keep my voice low in deference to my sleeping lover, but Byers still flinches. "I am glad they are suffering but none of that makes up for the brain washing sessions, the beatings, the tests...bone marrow, spinal taps...all the other procedures Mulder couldn't even name because no one would tell him what they were for. It doesn't begin to make up for repeatedly...raping him!" 

"I know and I think that's a normal reaction to what you learned tonight, but you can't let those feelings consume you. That's not what he needs from you. That's not why he told you." He points at Mulder's sleeping form as he speaks. "It's not what you need either. You've got a chance at real happiness, Walter. Don't blow it." 

I know what he's saying is true. I just don't know how to begin to get past this. 

"You should think about talking to Albert next time he stops by, Walter. He really helped Mulder let go of a lot of his anger and fear. I am sure he could do the same for you." 

"I'll think about it." That idea scares me. Hearing about all this spiritual mumbo jumbo is one thing. Actually participating in it is an entirely different matter. John is right about one thing though, I can't stay like this or I will end up fucking things up. 

Mulder has become restless, shifting and mumbling something in his sleep. 

"Go to him, Walter, wake him up. It's gonna be a screamer." 

I go and kneel down next to him and take his face in my hands. "Mulder, wake up, sweetheart. Mulder...it's just a dream. Come on back to me now..." I lean in and kiss him. When I pull back he is looking at me through heavy lids. 

"Walter?" 

"Yeah, It's me babe. You were having a bad dream. What do you say we go get into bed now. The sun will be up soon and Gibson will probably be up early." 

"Okay." 

I help him up and wrap the blanket around him. As we shuffle towards the bedroom I realize his eyes aren't even open, he's still asleep. I get into bed with him, wrapping my arms around him and I hear him sigh contentedly. I try to focus on just the feel of him and the steady rhythm of his breathing and eventually I follow him into sleep. 

Day 10  
11:00 AM 

When I finally stagger from the bedroom it appears that the rest of the household has already been up for a while. There's a pile of dishes in the sink and half a pot of coffee left. The washer and dryer are churning away in the corner. I pour myself a mug and wander out to the porch. I can see Mulder and Gibson sitting on the dock. 

I am not quite ready to join them so I take a seat in one of the old rocking chairs and watch them as I sip my coffee. I can hear laughter drifting up on the breeze and it makes me smile. I love hearing him laugh. I don't hear it often enough. 

A few hours of sleep has made a huge difference in my outlook. I can still feel the rage, but it's not the all consuming inferno it was a few hours ago. It's a really good thing Byers came by when he did or I probably would have done something stupid. 

Mulder and Gibson have gotten up and are starting back towards the cabin. As I watch him approach I get a flash of that sadistic prick, Johnson, putting his hands on him and my blood starts to boil all over again. I can feel the heat rising in my face. I struggle to get it back under control. If I can't even look at him without thinking about what happened then there are going to be big problems. Maybe I will talk to Albert after all. 

As Mulder tops the stairs he stops and looks at me. His smile has faded to a tight frown and his eyes lower to the floor. Gibson just retreats into the house without a word. 

"Morning." 

"Morning, Babe." I try to make my voice light. 

"Have you been up long? You could have come and joined us," he says softly. 

"I haven't been here long. I was...enjoying the view." I reply in the flirtiest tone I can muster. 

"Oh. I thought maybe...ummm...Look, about last night...I...I am sorry..." 

"Whoa! Stop right there. Don't you dare apologize, Mulder." My words come out way to harsh and he visibly flinches. I take a deep breath and as softly as I can I say, "I am sorry, Fox. I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I am not angry at you. I am not angry at you about _anything_. I am glad you told me. I can't tell you how happy it makes me to know that you trust me that much. I told you that nothing you could say would change how I feel about you and it hasn't. I love you, Mulder." 

"but...but I heard you...you can't stand to look at me...you're disgusted by me..." 

"No, no that's not it, Mulder. That's not what I was thinking at all. You've got it all wrong." I stand and try to go to him but he backs away. 

"Don't...please, don't touch me." 

"Okay, what ever you need, babe." I put my hands up in supplication. "Will you listen to me for a minute, please?" I get a slight nod in response. "Yes, I admit I was feeling disgusted, but not by you, Mulder. By them...about what they did to you and disgusted with myself because thinking about what you've gone through makes me so mad I want to kill someone. But not disgusted by you Mulder, never by you. You're the most precious thing in the world to me. None of what happened to you was your fault. You have to believe me." 

Another nod, but he still won't look at me. "I need to go grab a shower..." he mumbles and heads for the door. 

"Mulder, wait..." 

"It's okay, Walter..." he says at the doorway, keeping his back to me. "We're okay...I just need to be alone for a little while." He disappears into the house. 

"Damn it." I sit back down in the rocker and bury my face in my hands. I fucked up. He didn't have to say it- I've made him feel dirty and ashamed. Logically, I think he knows better, but since when has logic had anything to do with human emotions? I have no idea how to undo the damage. 

My downward spiral is interrupted by a car pulling into the driveway. Emma's back with what appears to be another apple pie. I am beginning to suspect that our seventy year old landlady has a crush on my lover, which I find strangely charming. 

"Good morning!. How are you, Dear?" Emma asks in her wonderful, concerned Grandmother voice. 

"Fine...I am just fine. How are you?" 

"Same as always, just glad to have woken up for another day." She laughs. I can't help it, she makes me chuckle slightly. "I am not buying this 'fine' business. What's the matter? Lover's quarrel?" 

"Something like that, yeah." 

"Well, don't worry, Dear. You'll work it out." 

"I hope you're right, Emma." 

"I am. I am always right about these things. Let's have some pie. It's still warm, it will cure what ails you!" 

I wish it were that simple, but I don't think what ails me can be cured by warm pie. I follow her to the kitchen anyway and get a couple of plates out. 

"Where's your other half?" 

"Shower." My other half. That's exactly what he is too. I fail to mention that my other half currently wants nothing to do with me, because I accidentally made him feel like dirt. Or that he is probably crying and scrubbing himself raw as we speak. 

We take our pie back out onto the porch. "This is great, Emma. Thank you. You are spoiling us." I smile at her. 

"Well, you all seem like you could use a little spoiling. Me and my Harold used to own a bakery in town. I've missed having people to bake treats for." 

"Harold? Is he you're husband?" 

"Yes, he was." 

"Oh...I am sorry. I didn't realize..." 

"That's all right, Walter. He's been gone for some twenty years now." 

Walter? We didn't give her our real names. As confident as he was about this place, Mulder had still insisted on fake names. Did we slip up somewhere? "Uh, Emma? Why did you call me Walter?" 

"Well, it's your name isn't it? My Harold told me all about you folks, told me to expect you and to treat you like kin. Don't worry I wont give you away. You have a home here for as long as you need it." 

"Thank you." A week ago I would have written her off as a senile old woman. It's sort of comforting to think that there is somehow this network of friendly spirits looking out for us. Not just the dead that we knew in life, but other unknown souls as well. 

"My pleasure, Sweetie," she says patting my knee. "I heard him coming miles before you got to my house. Your Fox, he's a special one. His boy, too." 

"Yes, ma'am. They are." I smile at her. Sounds like Emma has a bit of 'the shine' herself. 

"Guess that makes you pretty special yourself, Walter." 

"How do you figure that?" 

"Because you've been chosen to watch over them, to love them and keep them safe. It would take a very special person to do that. This world can be awfully cruel, especially for those that it sees as different. It's left to folks like you and me to see to it that they find some comfort, some peace in this world. You understand me don't you, son?" She looks at me with a stern knowing gaze. 

"Yes, Emma. I do understand." I understand exactly what she's telling me. I don't want to be rude but suddenly all I can think about is going to Mulder and trying to make amends. Try and make sure he understands what happened this morning. 

"Now, the real reason I am here is that this old woman needs some help in her garden, how 'bout you loan me that young Gibson for the afternoon?" 

Naturally, Gibson appears right on cue. "How about it, Gibson? You up for helping Emma with her yard?" 

"Sure, but I've never done any gardening." 

"Well, then it's time you learned." Emma smiles at him and stands to leave. She stops at the top of the stairs and turns back towards me. "My Harold told me that young of man of yours might change the world. What do you make of that?" 

"Anything's possible." I smile at her. "He's already changed mine." 

12:00 PM 

I knock softly on the bedroom door, but get no reply. Slowly, I open the door and poke my head in. "Mulder? Can I come in?" Still nothing, so I open the door wider and there is no sign of him. "Mulder?" 

He's got to be in here. I would have walked right past him if he were somewhere else in the cabin-it's not that big a space. Then I remember what Gibson had told me about his panic attacks and go the closet. 

"Mulder, you in there?" I open the door slowly. Sure enough, he's huddled up in the corner, apparently asleep. I sit down on the floor in front of the closet and wait. I don't want to risk startling him and possibly setting off another attack. 

Fortunately, I don't have to wait long. Maybe he is subconsciously aware of my presence, but he starts to stir almost immediately. 

"Hey, sleeping beauty." I offer him a warm smile. 

"Hey, Walter." His face flushes with embarrassment as he starts to uncurl himself. 

I stand and extend my hands to him. "Come on, I'll help you up." He gives me his hands and I pull him to his feet. 

"Sorry...how long have I been out?" He concentrates on the floor, avoiding my gaze. 

"Not long and there's no reason to be sorry. It's okay." 

"No, it's not. It's fucking embarrassing. Hiding in the closet like a child afraid of the boogeyman. Christ, I'm a mess." 

"Mulder," I sigh and wrap my arms around him, "Don't be embarrassed. I know you just need to feel safe. And in your case, the boogeyman is real. You want to talk about what happened?" I lead him over to the bed and pull him down with me. He allows me to pull him in close, and soon his head is resting comfortably on my shoulder. 

"Mulder, before you start. I want to apologize again for this morning. I really need you to understand that what I was feeling...it wasn't directed at you. I just got so angry thinking about what happened to you. I can't promise that it won't happen again, but I can promise you that my feelings for you haven't changed and they won't change. I love you." 

"I know. I love you too. I know I overreacted. I've been so scared of telling you...I was afraid that if you knew the whole truth that you would be so disgusted that you'd leave me. Then this morning...I caught just enough of what you were thinking to send my brain into overdrive." 

"It's, okay. I understand, I really do. I'm just sorry that I freaked you out so badly that it triggered another attack." 

"You didn't. It wasn't you. I was okay with everything by the time I got out of the shower." 

"So, what happened?" 

"My fa...Bill Mulder was waiting for me when I got out. He really laid into me and I just couldn't deal." 

"What did he say?" 

"A lot of stuff. None of it good. Mostly, he just wanted to remind me what a 'worthless, candy-ass, faggot' I am." 

"Oh, God,...Mulder." I hug him tighter. 

"It's okay. I've kind of been expecting it. When I was sixteen he caught me with this boy I was seeing. We weren't doing anything major, just kissing-but he damn near beat me to death..." 

"Jesus, Mulder, I am so sorry..." I feel like I am crushing him, but he's holding me back just as tightly, which helps dispel the image of a broken, bleeding teenage Fox from my mind. That must be the 'cure' Teena Mulder was talking about. 

"I was in the hospital for two weeks. Head injury and some internal bleeding. I don't remember much about those two weeks. Anyway, when I got out my parents made me go to this shrink to cure my 'confusion'." 

"Did it work?" 

"What do you think?" He laughs. 

"I'd say that's a 'No'." 

"'No' is right. All it did was teach me to be more discreet. I just got really good at playing the game. Mark's parents packed him off to military school for our last semester and I never saw him again. At the time, I thought I loved him, and I wasn't interested in dating anyone else, so it was easy to pretend. I graduated early and was off to Oxford before my seventeenth birthday, so I didn't have to keep up the act very long. I had a lot of sex at Oxford, but no relationships until Phoebe. What about you, Walter? Have you had many men?" 

His honesty batters away at my embarrassment, and I answer him just as bluntly. "No, not many. Just a few, before I married Sharon, while I was in the corps. It was just sex, though I've never had a relationship with a man before you." 

"Does it freak you out at all, Walter?" He's got that 'this is somehow my fault' look in his eyes again, and I hasten to allay his fears. 

"No, not now. Years ago, when I first figured out how I felt about you, it did. I had a hard time reconciling the fact that my feelings for you went way beyond just a sexual attraction. I have had a lot of years to process everything and get to the point where I could decide that if you ever gave me the chance I would jump at it. I've wanted a real relationship with you for a very long time." 

"I know. I've wanted the same thing for probably as long as you have, but I always thought you were this straight arrow, card carrying heterosexual. You know, former marine, married to a beautiful woman, yada, yada.... I can't even tell you how blown away I was when I heard what you were thinking that day in the hospital. I just wanted to kiss you so bad it hurt." He looks at me, and the smile on his face is huge and honest. "Man, if I had a dime for every time I fantasized about you taking me right there on that big old desk in your office...we could be cruising the Riviera on a big yacht right now!" 

"Ah, that desk. Well, there is a fantasy we both shared." I laugh. "That desk hid many a raging hard on during our meetings. If it hadn't been for Scully and the constant surveillance I probably would have tried to make that fantasy a reality." 

"Really?" 

"Oh, yeah, absolutely. My resolve was definitely slipping towards the end." 

"Damn. I wish we had that desk." 

"Well, Gibson's gone for the afternoon and the kitchen table looks pretty sturdy, you could just close your eyes and pretend." 

He just starts laughing. God, I love hearing him laugh. 

"No, it just wouldn't be the same. We don't have to move. You can ravish me right here." 

"Good idea." 

4:00 PM 

I am freshly showered with a cup of coffee in hand, sharing a porch swing with the man I love and for a moment the world seems like a pretty perfect place. I can't help but let out a contented sigh. 

"What? Why the big sigh, Walter?" 

"I can't help it. I am just feeling so damn...content...happy." 

"Good. I am glad to hear it. I have a good feeling about this place. I think we'll be here a while." 

"I hope you're right. I really like it here." 

"Me too. Flannel shirts and porch swings suit you, Walter." 

"I was just thinking the same thing." 

We just sit quietly for a long while, watching the sun beginning to set on the water. 

"Walter?" 

"Hmmm?" 

"This morning when Bill was here...he said some things that kind of got me thinking." 

"What was it?" Damn, this can't be good. I can't imagine anything that bastard has to say being anything but completely unpleasant. 

"He said they've made a huge breakthrough--the DOD, that is--they're close to perfecting their vaccine. They've isolated something in my DNA that was the key. He said I am being selfish and that I am condemning the human race by not turning myself in to them." 

Fuck. No wonder he ended up hiding in the closet. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" 

"Denial, pure and simple. I just didn't want to deal with it." 

"Do you believe him?" 

"I don't know. It's not like he's ever given me a reason to trust him, but what if...what if he's right?" 

"You can't honestly be thinking about surrendering to them?" 

"I can't _not_ think about it, Walter. What if after everything I've done, after everything I've put you and Scully through...what if after all that, the only thing I ever really had to do to stop the invasion was to just give up?" 

"Mulder, just stop for a second. Consider the source here. I know he's your...your father, but...he's also ultimately responsible for everything that's happened to you. You said yourself that there is no reason to trust him. I think it's much more likely that he is just fucking with your head. Remember, he's just a ghost and you're not sixteen anymore. He can't hurt you physically, but he can still try to ruin you with the mother of all guilt trips." 

"And I am just stupid enough to fall for it." He groans rubbing his face with both hands. 

"You're not stupid, Mulder. Vulnerable, but not stupid." I wrap my arm protectively around his shoulders. "We have other sources for this kind of information, people we can trust to tell us the truth. If the fate of the world depended on you sacrificing yourself, don't you think the Gunmen, Albert or even Krychek, would tell you?" 

"You're right. I'm sorry, I guess I wasn't thinking too clearly, but I really need to know if it's true..." 

"I know." I sigh. "We'll find out, just try not to obsess on it until we know, okay?" 

"Yeah, okay." 

So much for my perfect moment. My gut instinct says that Bill Mulder was just yanking his chain, but if I am wrong...I don't even want to think about that. Fortunately, the Gunmen picked up on my mental S.O.S. and appear in front of us. 

"Hey, guys." 

"You been spying on us again, Frohike?" 

"Me? Spy? Never. Just stopping by to see how you're doing. You still taking your meds?" 

"Yes, mom. I am taking my medication and I feel just fine. Now, how about you cut the crap and just tell me already." 

"Well, he wasn't lying exactly." 

"He wasn't telling you the truth either." Byers is quick to cut in. 

"Well, which is it? Is it true or not?" I snap at them. 

Byers continues, "They aren't _close_ to perfecting the vaccine. They've done it! It's ready. They finally isolated the gene that gives you and your offspring immunity. It's true that you were vital to that success, Mulder. It wouldn't have happened if they hadn't...well...it wouldn't have been possible without you." 

"So, it's true then..." he whispers wrapping his arms around himself as his face goes pale. 

"That much is true, Mulder. They don't need you in order to continue producing the vaccine. They have what they need from you. They've been growing those cells in the lab and they can keep replicating them forever if they need to. There is absolutely no reason for you to consider turning yourself in. Not that they wouldn't love to get you back, but they don't need you." 

"You're sure about that?" 

"Absolutely." 

"Thank you, Byers." I feel his muscles relax, and I think mine have just done the same, although I keep my arm tight around him. 

"You're welcome, Mulder. I am just glad to be giving you some good news for a change." 

Byers looks pleased, but it's nothing compared to the relief I am feeling. I know he would have given himself up if they had told him it was necessary for the survival of the planet. I would have tried to talk him out of it for my own selfish reasons, but I also know I would have failed. 

"What happens now, with the vaccine I mean, what are they planning?" I have to ask. 

"As soon as they have enough of it stockpiled they are planning to distribute it as widely as possible. They'll of course start with key members of the government and the military and then they will start on the general population. They will most likely come up with some fake health threat to get people to take it, some sort of bio-weapons or super flu kind of thing. The good news is that they are planning on inoculating the general population world wide, not just a select few. I think they've finally realized that if we are going to survive a full on invasion they are going to need as many people as possible who are immune to the virus. The more people who are immune, the less chance the aliens have of gaining any ground here." 

"We need to get our hands on that vaccine." Mulder tells him. "I want Walter inoculated as soon as possible." 

"We'll let you know as soon as there is someplace near here where it can be obtained. I imagine it's going to be a while, maybe even a year or two." 

Mulder nods, and a faint smile paints his lips. 

"So, just relax now, Mulder, and try to stay out of trouble. We'll be around if you need us." 

"Thanks again, guys." 

"Yes, thank you." I add, hoping my total sincerity is coming through to them loud and clear. 

"No sweat." Frohike replies as they vanish. 

Mulder looks at me and his smile intensifies, there are tears running down his cheeks. I pull him snug to my chest and kiss his forehead. 

"You okay, babe?" 

"Yeah, I am okay. I feel good...better." He squeezes me tighter. "It hasn't all been for nothing, Walter. What they did to me...because of that a lot of lives will be saved...including yours. I feel good about that. I know this is going to sound weird, but after you're vaccinated there will be a little piece of me inside you...protecting you always. I like that idea." 

"You're right, Mulder, that sounds weird." We both laugh. I don't tell him, but I find the idea rather comforting. I am also happy that something positive came out of all his suffering, that there is something good he can cling to when it all starts to overwhelm him again. I think this information will really help him heal some of those wounds. It might help me too. 

"Do you think maybe they'll stop looking for us now that they have what they wanted?" 

"I don't know. I hope they will at least make it a much lower priority. I think it's a bit soon to assume that we are off the hook." 

"I know, I just feel like...there's hope, Walter. For the first time in years I actually feel like things might be okay." 

"It's going to be better than _okay_ , my love. We are going to have a long happy life together, that much I am certain of. It can't go any other way, because I won't let it." 

I lift his face towards mine and kiss him passionately, trying to erase all doubt from his mind. I pull away to look into his eyes. 

"There is hope, Mulder. There is hope for us all." 

He gives me a slight nod and smiles, settling back into my arms. We watch the sun set on the lake in silence, both of us content in the knowledge that this is just the first of many evenings we will spend this way. 

Finis 

More notes from the author: Please forgive my ignorance regarding the medical jargon. Mulder's bout with blood poisoning is based completely on my own unfortunate case. A small puncture wound in my foot went from 'gee, it looks like it might be a little infected' to a painful, throbbing mess complete with red swollen veins streaking up past my knee and a fever of 104 in less than 24 hours. I spent a week in the hospital with IV's and all manner of machinery attached to me. Between the fever and the drugs I don't remember a whole lot. Mostly, I just remember being told that I was damn lucky someone took me to the hospital when they did. If the fever hadn't killed me, the nasty bacteria in my blood stream would have. So, any inaccuracies are due my own dim memories and the fact that I am too lazy to do the research. Thanks for bearing with me. 

__**Once again, I bow humbly at the feet of the Goddess Michele for her guidance and wisdom. This never would have gotten finished without her.  
  

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Anonymous Bosch


End file.
